


Caribbean Love

by Amberlovesocean



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4412162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberlovesocean/pseuds/Amberlovesocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt takes his father to the Virgin Islands to vacation after his heart attack. Burt ends up in the hospital and Kurt goes to get their luggage to take his dad home when a storm smashes the boat, leaving Kurt in the ocean. Alone. He needs all of his wits about him to survive, but he finds something he needed more than that...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm-Tossed Sea

 

_**Carribbean Ocean, near The Virgin Islands** _

 

 _Kurt couldn't help thinking that the words “storm-tossed sea” were so much better in the pages of a book than they were in real life. In a_ _book it sounded romantic, but in reality it was freezing cold, violent, and terrifying. Kurt was wearing a life-jacket and holding on to the railing in his cabin with all of his might, wondering how much longer he would have before the wind and sea ripped this boat into shreds and he would be left alone in the cold Caribbean water._

 

_Standing there, holding the thin chromed rail, Kurt thought of his father. Burt was lying in a hospital bed back in the town of Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands. Kurt was on his way back to the smaller island, St. John, to retrieve their luggage from the hotel where they had been staying. Kurt wondered what would happen if he was swept overboard in this storm. What would his dad do without him? He was all his dad had. He closed his eyes and said a hasty prayer to his mother. He really did not believe in God any more, but tragedy tends to make believers of the most ardent atheists._

 

“ _Abandon ship!” he heard above his head and he panicked. He could swim, but swimming in a school swimming pool in Lima, Ohio was very different from trying to keep his head above water in a Caribbean hurricane. Still, he was now knee-deep in the cabin and more water was pouring in by the minute. He took a deep breath, made sure the life jacket was strapped on correctly, and made his way up the steps to the deck. He could smell the rain, but there was something else – more of an ozone scent and it frightened Kurt to his bones as lightning struck the main mast and the thunder shook everything in heaven and Earth. Kurt cowered in the hatchway, but the water was rising and he knew he had to get on deck or be drowned in the small cabin. He liked his chances on deck a little better and started climbing the ladder._

 

 _The skipper was standing at the helm, giving shouted directions to his crew. All of the sailors were doing their jobs: winding some sort of winch that moved the sails, tying ropes and fastening them around the cleats on the deck, letting down one of the two lifeboats that had hung from the sides of the ship. One sailor spotted Kurt and grabbed him around the waist, tugging him along as they fought the wind that was screaming around them, struggling to put one foot in front of the other as wave after wave of water cascaded across the teak deck of the_ LILA MAE _._

 

“ _Get that boy into a lifeboat, Russell, and then go find our other passenger. I knew better than to take on passengers....” the skipper yelled, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the wind. Russell did as he was told and literally tossed Kurt into the small craft as it was being lowered to the surface of the raging sea. The wind seemed to catch the small boat and it swayed precariously as it made it's descent, finally slipping into the water. If the wind was wicked, the sea was a whirlwind whipped up by the devil himself. The craft slammed into the side of the ship, shuddering but holding together, and Kurt looked up to see the name of the little sailboat: “LILA MAE” in glossy red letters highlighted by gold paint as it danced above his head._

 

_Just as he saw the crew at the edge of the boat, trying to throw bundles to him, Kurt heard a few of the duffel bags fall to the bottom of the lifeboat. He looked up to try and catch the next bundle when he heard a huge crack, louder than the storm around him, and he saw a mast falling over the side of the ship. He felt a burst of pain, as if his very head had exploded, and the storm around him receded into darkness._

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Five weeks earlier**

 

 

 

Kurt was making his father some soup for his lunch. His father was asleep on the sofa in the den and Kurt had pulled the crocheted afghan up over his shoulder an hour ago so he could nap until lunch. Making the soup according to the recipe he'd found in a cookbook for post-heart attack diet, Kurt just knew his dad would be grouchy when he tasted it. He wasn't allowed very much salt and the salt substitute didn't have the flavor Burt was used to.

 

Kurt made Avgolemono, which was a delicious Greek soup with rice, chicken broth, and lemons. He'd read that lemons would make the lack of salt more palatable. He sure hoped so because he hated to see his dad unhappy and eating was one of Burt's favorite things to do.

 

Kurt set up the trays in front of the sofa, bringing in napkins, some iced tea with sugar substitute and lots of ice, and some flatbread that was heart-friendly. He hoped it would suffice, his dad had been so glad to be home that Kurt didn't want him to regret it. He ladled the thick soup into two bowls, sprinkled on just a bit of feta cheese for flavor, and placed them on the trays. There were grapes for dessert.

 

“Dad? Dad, are you hungry? I made a new kind of soup,” Kurt coaxed. Burt sat up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes and smiling when he saw his son. They were everything to each other and Burt thanked God that he was able to survive the heart attack and come home to Kurt. He never wanted to see hurt in Kurt's eyes like he saw when he awoke from the coma three weeks ago. He hated the new physical therapy and even more the new diet he had to eat, but he was determined to do everything the doctor told him to do. He was not going to die and leave Kurt an orphan.

 

“Yeah, Kiddo, I could eat. What do we have here now? I don't think we've had this before. Is it a new recipe?” Burt did his best to smile at Kurt. He didn't really want to eat at all, and certainly not some new tasteless crap that Kurt had found in that cookbook he bought last week, but he could put on a good face for his beloved son if it meant Kurt would smile.

 

Burt sat up slowly to avoid one of those dizzy headaches he tended to get if he moved too fast. He took the napkin, tucked it into his flannel shirt, and took a sip of the caffeine-free herbal tea Kurt had made for him. It wasn't bad, it kind of tasted like flowers and lemons, maybe some cinnamon? Whatever, it was good because it was ice cold and Burt was thirsty. He was always thirsty lately.

 

“Can I help you, Dad? Did you sleep okay?” Kurt asked with that tearful look on his face that Burt would give a year's salary to remove permanently. It was heart wrenching to see Kurt so broken. He hadn't had that look on his face since his mom died ten years before. It took so many years to get Kurt to a place where he would be weeks without that devastated look, and now it was back. Burt took a deep breath and ladled a spoonful of the soup into his mouth.

 

“Hey, Kiddo, this is great. What kind is it?” Burt asked, reveling in the smile on his son's face.

 

“It's a Greek soup, Avgolemono. It's chicken soup thickened with rice and lemon for flavor. I'm so glad you like it, Dad,” Kurt gushed. They sat and ate, Burt finishing two full bowls before he wiped his mouth and sat back.

 

“That was delicious, we can have that again, right? I didn't even miss the salt too much. Thank you, Kurt,” Burt said, closing his eyes again. Kurt shifted so his dad could move his feet back up on the sofa to lie down.

 

“Get a little more sleep, Dad. I'm just going do the wash-up in the kitchen. When I'm done, we can go for a short walk, okay?” Kurt asked and smiled when Burt nodded his head. He wanted to get out of the house so badly.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_**Burt's Doctor's Office, two weeks later** _

 

 

 

“I think your son's right, Burt. A vacation would be just the ticket. Find a nice sun-drenched beach somewhere and go for a fortnight. You're fine to travel as long as you take your medicine on time, follow the physical therapy, and stay in a place that has medical care if you need it,” the doctor told Burt. Kurt was grinning. He had already spoken to the doctor and told him of the plans he had of taking his father away from Lima to forget all the stress of coming home from the hospital.

 

Burt sat and worried about his shop, convinced that it would go under if he wasn't there to watch it every day. Kurt had called his Uncle Frank who had come to take over for a few months until Burt was back on his feet. Everything was doing fine, but Burt was still worried. Kurt could see his father letting the stress add to his depression and he was determined to get Burt out of there for a few weeks.

 

He had brought this up to Uncle Frank, who was very happy to arrange for a vacation for Burt and Kurt to take in the Virgin Islands, all expenses paid. His Aunt Rose worked for a travel agency and it was set up for the first week in July. Kurt could hardly wait. They were to fly into Charlotte Amalie on St Thomas and then take a ferry to St John where they were booked into a beach-side hotel. They didn't require passports because this part of the Virgin Islands were US possessions. It sounded like paradise to Burt who had never been anywhere on vacation that he hadn't driven to in his car. When Kurt was little, he and Elizabeth took their son to the Grand Canyon, Niagra Falls, Disneyland in Anaheim, and a lot of camping trips in Ohio. It was time to reinstate the summer vacations and Kurt agreed.

 

 

 

“Dad, no flannel shirts. No, not even one. The temperature will be eighty degrees or more and you would cook in a flannel shirt. Now, Aunt Rose is coming to take you shopping for a more appropriate wardrobe for an island vacation,” Kurt put his foot down.

 

He would live to regret sending his dad with his aunt. They came home loaded with bags and packages which Kurt took to his father's room to hang up. A startled scream came from the room and brought his aunt, uncle, and father running.

 

“What? What happened?” Rose asked as she ran down the hall, Burt walking a little slower but catching up. There was Kurt, his eyes wide as he looked over the array of shirts and Bermuda shorts strewn across the bed.

 

“Ah, Dad...Bermuda shorts? I've only seen these colors in golf pants. And are you planning on wearing them with...Hawaiian print shirts? Dad....” Kurt said in mock horror. He knew it was his own fault for letting them go by themselves and he had nobody to blame but himself. He sighed.

 

“Did you get new shoes, too? Maybe some boat shoes or top-siders?” Kurt asked, though he knew that was probably asking too much. Burt proudly opened another bag with a shoe box inside. In the box he lifted out a pair of Birkenstocks. “Yeah, I got these for the beach. Somewhere here is a bag of great socks. Colors for each outfit, Kurt. We're gonna look great together,” Burt crowed, so proud of himself.

 

“Ah, okay, Dad. Ah, maybe I'll go get a few more items and we can pack tonight. The plane leaves early tomorrow morning.” Kurt left the room, his head swimming. He would have to find a way to tone down those bright shirts..and socks with Birkenstocks? Well, there was no way to fix that...

 

In the end, Kurt was able to exchange about half of the brightly colored shirts and shorts for less colorful items: Navy blue shorts, chino slacks in khaki, and a few other things although he was unable to get Burt to part with a single Hawaiian shirt. Kurt gave in. If his dad was happy wearing the Don Ho look, Kurt would smile and go along with it.

 

* * *

 

_**St John, U.S. Virgin Islands ~ July First** _

 

 

 

The day they landed started out with a walk on the beach, breakfast of fresh fruit and some homemade pastries that were allowed on Burt's diet. They found wonderful fish at a nearby restaurant for lunch and took a short bus ride around part of St Thomas before they would leave to their hotel on St John.

 

Most days were spent walking on the beach, swimming, and beach combing. Kurt stayed under the umbrella or indoors, not wanting his fair skin to burn or freckle. He took after his mother's Irish roots with his thick chestnut hair and fair skin that did not tan. Burt, however, got a golden baked tan in spite of the sunscreen Kurt plastered all over him.

 

It was on a day that they had planned to just walk through the small town near their hotel, soaking up some of the local culture before the last two days of the trip when disaster struck. First the weather turned nasty. It wasn't unheard of for a storm to hit the islands in July, but it was far from usual. Kurt had argued with his dad about just staying in the hotel and resting all day and Burt won, claiming he felt fine and with the breezes a little cooler, it was a good day to explore the market.

 

About half an hour into the walk, Burt sat down for the fifth time.

 

“Dad, let's head back to the hotel. You don't look well and I'm starting to worry,” Kurt mentioned.

 

“Oh, I'm okay, just tired. Let me sit here for a few minutes and then we'll start walking again. Can you get me some...ah...fruit juice or something?” Burt asked.

 

“Sure, Dad. I'd be happy to. Just rest here and I'll be right back,” Kurt assured him. He stepped away and saw a couple he had spoken to last night at the hotel. Rebecca and Milo were from Vermont and Kurt liked them. He walked over and asked a favor.

 

“My dad isn't feeling very well. I'm going to get him some fruit juice and I wondered if you could kind of stay near him while I go? I”ll only be gone a few minutes, but I don't want him to know I have someone babysitting him, you know?” Kurt asked.

 

The couple were glad to help and strolled among the adjacent shops while Kurt ran to the juice stall down the road and got his dad some fresh squeezed orange-passionfriut juice. He hurried back and sat with his dad while he drank it. Rebecca and Milo came by then and sat down, saying hello to Burt. They all talked for a few minutes but Burt was looking worse. Kurt was worried when Milo reached out just in time to keep Burt from falling off of the bench. He was pale and shaky and told Kurt his left arm hurt.

 

“You stay here with your dad, I'm going to call for help. Rebecca will stay here with you,” Milo said and rushed off down the road. It seemed like hours to Kurt, but it was actually just a few minutes before the ambulance was there.

 

 

 

It was just a whirlwind of colors, voices, and a helicopter ride back to the hospital on St Thomas. Burt was finally in an exam room and had wires and tubes all over him once again in what seemed to Kurt like a nightmare - so similar to that horrible day at the hospital in Lima.

 

Kurt was so afraid that this time he would indeed lose his dad. He began to sweat, then it was getting harder to breathe and his stomach was upset.

 

“Dad, don't worry. I won't leave you, just stay calm and you're going to be fine,” Kurt tried to tell his father, clutching Burt's hand so tightly his knuckles were white. A nurse came over and explained to Kurt that they had to take his father to have a test done, that he would be right back and Kurt could stay in the room to wait. With a nod of his head, Kurt sat down in the chair. He tried to tell himself that everything would be fine, that his father was just having...a spell or something.

 

All that kept running through Kurt's mind were the days spent wondering if he was going to be an orphan. His chest hurt, but maybe it was from trying so hard to breathe. He shook his head to clear it, but he couldn't think straight with his chest hurting so badly. By the time he had thought to call someone, he was on the floor. His head hurt and he couldn't get a lungful of air, so he was panting little shallow breaths. He closed his eyes, wondering if this was the end.

 

 

“The patient is in Xray right now,” Kurt heard a nurse say and he lifted his hand to get her attention, but she walked by the room. He closed his eyes again, thinking of nothing but the crushing pain in his chest. Was this how his father was feeling now?

 

“Hey, what's this? I thought you said the patient was in X-ray. He's down on the floor...and where's the gurney?” Kurt heard a voice say and then there were arms around him, and a scurry of feet. He could feel several sets of hands lifting him to a bed, but he was curled around himself, knees to chest to try and stand the pain. A warm hand was holding his arm still as someone was touching a finger to his wrist. He could hear several voices in the room, but wasn't able to understand what they were saying. The lights were suddenly turned off and the room became quiet. Finally through the fog Kurt heard a quiet voice.

 

“Kurt? Kurt, can you hear me? I know you're afraid, but you are okay. You are having a panic attack. Your dad is doing okay, we are evaluating him but we don't think he had a heart attack. Listen to me,” the quiet voice said and warm arms came around him, holding him as the voice told him he was going to be okay. He was able to take a tiny breath, but the chest pain was bad and he could not relax.

 

“Kurt, we're going to put an IV in your arm. Try to be still and relax as much as possible. I will hold you, you won't be alone,” the voice said and someone – the warm voiced man - was running his fingers through Kurt's hair and humming to him. He still couldn't open his eyes, but he allowed his arm to be taken and felt a sharp prick.

 

“Now we're going to give you medication to make you feel more relaxed, Kurt. Don't worry if you feel sleepy, that's just the medicine working,” the voice told him and he took in a huge breath and started to struggle against them. He couldn't fall asleep, his father needed him.

 

“Kurt. Stop struggling. I won't give you the medicine if you are afraid. Can you tell me what's wrong?”

 

“I...I...can't go to sleep. Dad will need me,” he managed to get out before his throat felt too tight to speak.

 

“You don't have to go to sleep, it will make you sleepy, but you can stay awake if you want to. Okay, can I give it to you?” the voice asked. Kurt nodded. Then he felt a warmth flow up his arm. It stung a tiny bit, but the warmth was going all over his body and the pain in his chest was easing. He still hadn't opened his eyes and now he really was sleepy.

 

“Kurt, your dad is going to be all right. Just relax and you can see him as soon as you feel better. I promise, he'll be okay,” the voice told him.

 

“Don't let go...” Kurt asked.

 

“I won't. Just relax and you'll be okay,” the voice said, “I'll be here for you. I promise I won't leave...” The man was holding him close and stroking his hair, just like his mother used to, and Kurt was glad the man was there. That was the last thing Kurt remembered. He dreamed that the reassuring voice and warm arms were keeping him safe.

 

 

 

Waking up, Kurt saw that he was still in the cubicle, but he was on the gurney with an IV in his arm and his dad was sitting in the chair beside his bed, in a hospital gown and robe, an IV attached to his arm.

 

“Dad?”

 

“Hi, kiddo. How are you feeling?” Burt asked, looking a little pale.

 

“I'm.....I guess I'm fine. What happened, and why are you there and I'm here?”

 

“I had a little flutter in my heart. You had a panic attack. I am fine for now, but I have to stay here for a few days, then I need to get home and see my cardiologist. I'm afraid our vacation is going to end a little early, kid. I'm sorry,” Burt said, holding Kurt's hand.

 

“I don't care about the vacation. I care about you, Dad,” Kurt said, looking intently at his father's face.

 

The nurse came in and looked at Kurt's IV.

 

“The doctor said we can take this out, Kurt. You gave us a bit of a scare. I'm so happy you're doing fine now, though. He says you can go as soon as your dad signs you out,” she told them before removing the IV and taping it.

 

“Well, your father is very lucky, young man. Because of your quick response, we were able to get him the right drugs in the right amount of time and avoided a full-blown heart attack. We want to keep him for observation, but I think you can take him home by the end of the week. I've been in touch with his cardiologist in Lima and we agree he needs to return home. Can you arrange that or would you like for us to find someone to help with that?” the nurse asked.

 

Kurt sat still for a few minutes, trying to think clearly when a knock came on the door. At his call to enter, Milo peeked around the door. “Can I come in?”

 

“Please. Dad is doing okay, it wasn't a full heart attack, and your quick thinking saved his life. I owe you everything,” Kurt said, so relieved to see him.

 

“Oh, no, Kurt. We were glad to help,” Milo blushed.

 

Kurt told him the rest of what the doctor said and they were joined by Rebecca who offered to call the airlines and arrange for transport to get Burt home. The couple basically took over all the details so Kurt could stay with his dad.

 

 

 

Several hours later, Rebecca and Milo came back to Burt's hospital room where Kurt had fallen asleep, his head cradled in his arms on the side of Burt's bed. He was exhausted, but there was nowhere for him to go. His hotel room with everything they brought with them was on St John and they were on St Thomas.

 

“Kurt? Hey, we got your plane tickets changed. Because of your medical insurance you bought with your ticket, you can have a registered nurse fly with you just as a precaution when you fly back to Ohio. Now, do you think you can go back to St John to get your luggage and get it back here? You can stay here with your dad until they release him or you are welcome to stay at our house, its just outside Charlotte Amalie and we have extra rooms,” Rebecca told Kurt, putting a maternal arm around his shoulders. He looked so small and afraid sitting next to his father's bedside.

 

“Yes, of course. I'll go get the luggage in the morning,” he said, holding tightly to his father's hand, “and I'll stay with you if it isn't any trouble. Thank you.”

 

 

 

The next morning found Burt in good spirits and feeling much better. He told Kurt to go ahead and get the luggage and they could be home by noon the next day. Kurt smiled and gave his father a kiss on the top of his shiny bald head.

 

“And Kurt? Don't leave behind a single one of my new Hawaiian shirts. Okay, buddy?” Burt smirked, knowing how much Kurt hated the brightly colored monstrosities. Kurt giggled and promised.

 

 

 

Down by the docks, Kurt ran into an older man who had been pointed out to him. Kurt was having some trouble finding a way to get to St John. Most of the commercial ferries and charters were not going to venture out because of the weather, but he heard that even if nobody else would venture forth, this captain would. He managed to get a place on the boat, the _LILA MAE_ named after the man's daughter. He didn't often allow passengers, but when he heard Kurt's story he agreed to take him.

 

It was beginning to rain when Kurt got on board and he went down to the skipper's cabin where Capt. Grumby told him he could sit during the short voyage to St John. He had dozed off, tired from staying up most of the night with his father and awoke to the hurricane-force winds.

 

Now Kurt was holding on to the sides of the small lifeboat, ankle deep in cold sea water, but it was from the waves crashing and not from a leak as far as he could tell. The sailors had thrown some duffel bags and things overboard into the lifeboat, but the rope was uncoiling and Kurt didn't have any gloves to hold on to it. He knew better than to try and hold it with his bare hands, so he just held on to the side of the boat until the sickening sound of wooden debris collided with his skull and then he was out.

 

 

 

Kurt woke up, not knowing how long he had been out – a few minutes, a few hours? The LILA MAE was gone, or at least he couldn't see her in the driving rain, although the visibility was about three feet, so who knew? He tried to see what exactly his condition was, but it was hard to think with the pain in his head and his vision was very blurry. He held his hand to the throbbing place and pulled his hand back to find a lot of blood, it was gone in a few seconds from the rain scouring his skin. He hunkered down as far as possible in the boat, shivering.

 

Time had gone by and he was so tired, beyond exhausted trying to hold on to the sides of the boat. Kurt hung on doggedly so he would stay with the craft. It might be the only way he would stay afloat. He had no idea if these waters contained anything dangerous: sharks, rays, or anything venomous. That was just too much to think about, so he tried to think of what the smartest thing to do might be. He decided to tie the boat to his leg in case he fell off when he was sleeping. There was a medium sized hemp rope in the bottom of the boat, coiled up and one end tied tightly to a ring in the bow of the boat. He took the other end and tied it securely to his ankle. There, if he was swept overboard he might be able to recover his only means to be safe here.

 

The hours ticked by when Kurt suddenly heard something. At first, he thought it was just the ocean, screaming back at the wind. It's wasn't that hollow sound, though, it's more like a person's voice. He listened harder, closing his eyes to concentrate. It is definitely a voice and he turned this way and that to find the source. After a few minutes he saw a chunk of wood off in the distance. Kurt tried to focus his eyes, but he couldn't see much except that it was dark out, but not quite night. Sitting in the boat he could still hear the calls for help and they sounded as if they were coming nearer. He found the oars in the side of the boat and dipped them in the water, rowing towards the person as his cries for help sounded louder.

 

Closer to the target, Kurt could dimly see the outline of a man struggling to stay with the wood, his hands and arms shaking. It wasn't big enough to climb on, so the man was using it as a sort of float device. He wasn't wearing a life jacket and he sounded as if he were on his last thin shred of hope as he sank once more under the unforgiving water.

 

Kurt was close enough and he thought the wind has calm enough to risk slipping into the water to try and get this man aboard. He came closer and shouted out for the man to let go, but the man called back telling Kurt he couldn't swim.

 

Kurt got as close as possible and jumped into the water after checking that the rope connecting him to the boat was still tied to his ankle. He didn't want to be separated from his only means of survival in the ocean. Kurt expected it to be cold, but the sudden plunge left him in mild shock and he couldn't move. He went all the way under for a moment, but bobbed back up and took a huge breath. He got his bearings and stroked over to the man in the water, prying his frozen hands from the board he'd been clinging to. The man immediately tried to hold onto Kurt, but Kurt had taken water rescue at summer camp years ago and dodged the man's arms.

 

“Just go limp. I'll catch you if you will stop struggling and fighting the water, go limp!” Kurt shouted, anger fueling his legs as he tread water. The man finally did as Kurt instructed and went limp – from wanting to follow instructions or if he was unconscious Kurt didn't know. He kicked out away from the man and came back behind him. He grabbed him by the upper arm, barely able to get his hand around the buff bicep, so he dug in his fingernails and held on like a bulldog.

 

“Here, hold on to the side of the boat, but don't tip her too far or she'll fill with water and sink. Can you do that?” Kurt shouted above the slapping sound of the water on the boat.

 

The man didn't answer, but he nodded his head and Kurt slung himself back into the boat, gasping for air. He saw the hands slipping away from their grip on the edge and got to the starboard side just as the man lost his hold. Kurt lunged forward, grabbing the man's collar and hoisting him halfway into the boat, then taking a massive breath and dragging the rest of him on board. He fell to the bottom of the boat in a pile and lay still.

 

Kurt straightened him out as best as he could in the dim light so he was on his back, head in Kurt's lap so he didn't go under the water standing in the bottom of the boat. He leaned over to feel if the man was breathing and when he determined he had a pulse Kurt began bailing out the boat. There must have been an eclipse today because although the sky was still filled with dark threatening clouds, it was warm and must be daytime.

 

 

 

It was several hours before Kurt was so sleepy he couldn't bail any more, so he said a prayer to his mother and closed his eyes, slumping against the unconscious man. They drifted for a long time, the wind and current pushing the little boat wherever the elements took it. Kurt awoke much later....maybe hours, maybe days....when the bottom of the small lifeboat scraped her hull on a sandbar.

 

“Hey, wake up, we're on land,” he heard and turned towards the voice. It seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. Maybe it was one of the crew of the boat?

 

“Whoa...we really are. We must have drifted a long ways, it was a full moon when we left port, but I don't see the moon at all. Oh, it must just be clouds hiding the moon because I don't see the stars, either,” Kurt said.

 

“What do you mean?” the voice of the man asked.

 

“It must be really overcast. Do you know what the date is? There should be at least a hint of the moon,” Kurt said.

 

“Ah, there isn't any moon. It's more like ten in the morning,” the man said, waving his hand in front of Kurt's face. He drove his fingers towards Kurt's eyes, narrowly missing them, but Kurt didn't flinch for a second.

 

“I don't know how to tell you this, but I think something has happened to you. Did you have eye problems before?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked, beginning to get scared.

 

“I mean, could you see before?”

 

“Before what? Of course I can see. What are you talking about?” Kurt asked, getting irritated.

 

The man was silent.

 

Kurt sat still, then put his own hand in front of his face. He waved it around, squinting towards the place that felt hotter and suddenly realizing he was looking at the sun. No, still nothing at all. He let his head drop, feeling the edges of the boat and leaning on it. Tears came, but he just let them fall, stinging his eyes. If he could see to find the man in the water and save him, how could his blindness be caused by the blow he sustained to his head?

 

“Hey, we'll just find help and I'll get you back home. Where do you live?”

 

“In Lima, Ohio. I was here on vacation with my dad, but he's in the hospital in Charlotte Amalie. I was going back to get our luggage from the hotel on St John when the storm hit,” he said, moving his hands along the side of the boat. He was too afraid to do anything else.

 

“Thank you for saving my life out there, it was a very risky thing to do. Now maybe I can help you because this little atoll doesn't look like it's a busy port of call. I don't see a flicker of life anywhere and I can see almost the entire island from here,” the man said. He looked at Kurt again, realizing where he'd seen him before.

 

Kurt looked up but couldn't see the man in front of him.

 

“Kurt?” the man said.

 

“Yeah...how do you know my name?” Kurt asked, confused.

 

“You told me,” he said, but failed to mention it was yesterday when he saw him in the ER with his father.

 

Kurt shook his head a little, but that made his headache worse and he quit.

 

“What's your name?” Kurt asked.

 

“Blaine.”

 


	2. The Atoll

 

Blaine scrambled out of the lifeboat, trying in vain to haul it above the high-tide marks on the beach. He was exhausted from trying to keep afloat for so many hours and the lack of food and water wasn't helping, either. He looked at Kurt and could see the same was true of him, and the worry set in. Being a doctor, Blaine's biggest fault – which was also his biggest asset – was that he cared too much about people. He'd been reprimanded for being too close to his patients, for caring too much. He had been so angry and so disappointed when that happened. He believed that caring about people was why he became a doctor. He shook his head, once again focusing on the problem in front of him.

 

“Hey, can you lend a hand? I can't haul the boat up by myself,” Blaine asked Kurt, who turned and put his hands in front of him.

 

“Where?” was all he said and Blaine helped him out of the lifeboat, then took his arm and led him to where he could pull on the rope. Together they pulled it up on shore and then walked to the edge of the palm trees, Blaine leading Kurt and trying to keep him from stepping on anything that might trip him or cut his feet. About halfway up the beach, something reached out and yanked Kurt's ankle – tripping him as he fell hard on the rocks skinning his knees and hands and cutting his cheek open on a jagged stone.

 

“Kurt!” Blaine yelled, trying to stop him from tumbling, but he was too late. He had somehow missed seeing the rope tied to Kurt's ankle.

 

Kurt moved his head as though he was lost in the dark, which he was. Blaine came to try and help him up, but Kurt lashed out at him - terrified. He was dizzy and his head hurt and now he was having a little bit of trouble breathing. This was all too much.

 

“Leave me alone...Blair or whatever you said your name was. Where are we? All I want is to be back with my dad in Charlotte Amalie,” Kurt said, putting his head down on his knees and hugging his arms around his legs. He was terrified. The storm scared him, he didn't understand why he couldn't see. He thought it must have been from the debris that hit him when the boat broke up. Kurt was worried about the skipper of that boat...Capt. Grumby, and the crew. Were they all right? Had they found their way to the other lifeboat? But most of all, Kurt just wanted his dad. Was his heart okay? Would he go home without Kurt, thinking his son was dead? Tears pooled in Kurt's eyes, but he didn't let them fall.

 

Blaine was close enough to see the cut on Kurt's face was probably painful, but not dangerous. However, it would need to be cleaned and the skinned knees would have to be tended to.

 

“I saw a few of the duffel bags are still in the boat. I'll go back and check them to see if there's anything to eat,” Blaine said, moving close to Kurt but not touching him. “Will you be okay to stay here while I go back?”

 

“I will be fine. Just leave me alone,” Kurt said, lying his head down so his uninjured cheek was on his knee. He tried to understand how blind he was, but try as he might there was nothing he could see, not even the direct sunlight.

 

“Kurt, don't look at the sun. You'll damage your eyes,” Blaine said softly. He could tell Kurt was on the edge of panic and there was no valium or anything else here to bring him out of it if he went into a full anxiety attack. He remembered Kurt from the emergency room. Blaine had been the one to hold him until the drugs did their job. He didn't think Kurt remembered him, though.

 

“What's the difference now?” Kurt said, dejected. “I'm blind. Why would it matter?” he asked, but it was meant to be rhetorical.

 

“You might have a temporary condition. If something can be done to restore your vision, you don't want the nerves in your eyes to be burned out by the sun, do you?” Blaine asked.

 

“I guess not. Go see what's in the boat. I'll wait here,” Kurt said. He was so angry at what happened, he didn't want anyone near him right now. Kurt had learned as a child not to show his emotions. It wasn't something his dad taught him -not Burt, the most loving and caring father on Earth; but when Kurt cried about missing his mother, Burt would cry, too, and it hurt Kurt to think he'd made his dad sad so he stuffed his feelings down inside of himself.

 

Blaine walked back to the little life boat. There were three duffel bags in the bottom of the boat, all soaked by the rain and the ocean water that came in waves to try and sink them. No use saving that water, it was salty and not drinkable. Connected securely to the inside of the boat was a wooden box. Blaine opened it to find a first aid kit, some flares, a bag of drinking water, and some dried rations. There was a coil of rope and two knives, and a map of the Caribbean – although this last find was waterlogged and unreadable. Blaine reached into his pocket and withdrew his cell phone, but it was dead. He held it up and water ran out of it. He sighed.

 

Blaine decided to leave the duffel bags to open later, the first aid kit was a good one and sealed in a water-proof case, so he took the drinking water and the case back to Kurt.

 

“Hey, how are you doing?” Blaine asked. Kurt turned his face towards the sound of Blaine's voice.

 

“I'm lost. I want my dad. My head hurts. And I can't fucking see. How do you think I'm doing?” Kurt snapped. Even though he couldn't see Blaine, he was giving him his best ice-bitch glare and it kind of unnerved Blaine.

 

“I took all the duffel bags off the boat and brought them past the high tide mark, then I found the first aid kit and some water to drink. We need to be conservative with the water, but I'll get you some right now,” Blaine said. He opened the first aid kit and found a small cup which he filled half full of water. Kurt was trembling, probably due to the shock of finding himself blind and shipwrecked, so Blaine tried to put an arm around him to steady him before giving him the cup. Kurt jerked away from the touch.

 

“Hey, you spilled the water! I was just trying to steady you, Kurt. Now, I'm going to touch you – just so you can swallow the water. Ready?” he asked and Kurt nodded. Blaine gently placed an arm around Kurt's shoulders and touched the cup to his lips. Kurt took a small sip and tipped the cup back up straight.

 

“How much water do we have, and did you drink any?” he asked.

 

“There is about a gallon. No, I haven't had any yet,” he answered in his soft voice. Kurt listened intently to it. He thought it sounded familiar, but Blaine's name wasn't and Kurt's head hurt so bad he couldn't concentrate.

 

Blaine gave Kurt the rest of the water in the cup and then poured a little less for himself.

 

He looked through the first aid kit, wondering if he could give something to Kurt for his headache. He'd mentioned it once, but he kept rubbing his temples and he looked as if he were in pain. There were vials of morphine, some antibiotics in tablet form with saline and syringes in the kit. There were bandages and a first-aid manual, several bottles of malaria pills, and some aspirin.

 

“You don't have any allergies, do you, Kurt?” he asked.

 

“Nope. Well, to rhubarb, but I doubt that is going to be of any concern here,” he said, turning his face up to speak, then back down to rest on his knees.

 

“You don't have asthma, do you?”

 

“No. Why would you ask me that?” Kurt wondered.

 

“I'm going to give you some aspirin, but you shouldn't take aspirin if you're asthmatic. It might help with that headache, okay?” Blaine asked.

 

“Thank you,” Kurt said and took the aspirin he was given with a tiny sip of water.

 

“Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to take you back under the trees. Its hot out here and I bet you burn easily. I took the rope off from your ankle so just grab my hand and I'll help you get there,” Blaine offered. After careful consideration Kurt put out a hand. Blaine helped him up and guided him to the shade under the palm trees. Blaine was surprised at how soft Kurt's hands were and he looked closer at the boy, seeing him clearly for the first time. He was thin, but had muscle. He must do something physical every day to be in such good shape at his age. It couldn't be manual labor given the softness of his hands, though. Maybe he was a runner? Blaine forced himself to stop looking at Kurt in that manner, the boy was ten years younger than Blaine.

 

“Let's see that gash now,” he told Kurt and took cotton and a bit of the water to clean it up, applying three butterfly closures and covering it with antiseptic cream. “Do you hurt anywhere else?” Blaine asked.

 

“Yes, but it isn't too bad. I'll be fine. Do you have any idea where we are?” Kurt asked in that melodic voice that Blaine was starting to really like.

 

“Not much of one. I was just in the Virgin Islands as a favor to a friend. I was headed back home on Friday. I was knocked off the ferry by a wave early yesterday afternoon I think. We did fall asleep, so I'm not sure how long we slept.”

 

“Ferry?”

 

“The one from St John to St Thomas. They were arguing about whether it was safe, but the skipper said the wind was not that bad. I was in a hurry I guess. I'd been visiting a pal on St John and was due back for my next shift at work that night on St Thomas, so I volunteered to take the ferry, even with the warning. I should have listened to my friends, they told me not to go,” Blaine said, stopping for a breath. It was very hot and he was thirsty.

 

“Did the ferry capsize?” Kurt asked, wondering how many people were thrown into the sea by the storm. Maybe some would come to this...wherever they were...and he could get back to his dad.

 

“No, as far as I know it didn't. I was on the deck and a wave hit. I helped a woman get her daughter's lifejacket on, which took time because the little girl was scared. I had been trying to get my own lifejacket on when I got swept off my feet. I was trying to hold on, but the deck was slick. I fell in and someone threw me one of those floating rings, but I missed it. I went under and the next thing I knew I was holding that piece of wood to keep my head out of the water. I can't swim,” he said quietly, as if it were something to be ashamed of.

 

Kurt just sat there in the shade where Blaine had helped him. He was hot, too, but didn't want to ask for any more water.

 

“Thanks for pulling me out of the sea, Kurt. Not many people would have risked their life for a stranger,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt for signs of shock. He wasn't trembling and his skin hadn't seemed clammy when Blaine took his arm earlier. He watched carefully and noted his breathing was calm. No, he was probably just hot and tired. And dehydrated.

 

“Kurt, I'm going to look for something to drink or eat. Are you going to be okay if I leave you here for a few minutes? I won't go far and I think you'll be able to call me if you need me,” Blaine said.

 

“I'm not a child. I will be just fine, okay?” Kurt snapped.

 

“Okay, sorry,” Blaine said, wondering if Kurt was always grumpy or if something was going on with his head injury. He made the mental note to watch Kurt more closely.

 

 

 

Walking through the sand was hard, it was very soft sand and Blaine sank down in it a bit with each step. After a few hundred yards his back and calves started to hurt, but he kept going – keeping the tall palm tree that Kurt was near in his sight. He came across some trees and discovered most of them were coconuts. He picked up a few that had dried before finding one that sloshed when he shook it. He climbed one short palm tree to get a few nuts before he realized that if he fell and broke a leg or something he'd be alone and probably die.

 

Walking down to the beach once again, he turned back to see Kurt. The boy had dug a hole in the hot sand to find cool sand underneath and buried his feet in the cooler sand, then laid back on the shallow trench he'd dug. Blaine tried to recall how old Kurt was from the chart in the hospital, he thought he was about 16, but his memory wasn't as good as he wished it was.

 

Looking around, he saw a crab scuttle past him and he grabbed a bamboo stick he'd found on the ground under some of the trees. Armed with the stick, he chased the crab and hit it out of the tree it was..climbing? Did crabs climb trees? He struck the animal a few more times and then picked it up to take back with him.

 

 

 

Blaine walked back to the trees where Kurt was still resting. He jumped as Blaine approached but settled down as Blaine began to speak.

“Oh, sorry...didn't mean to startle you. I found some coconuts and a coconut crab. I'll need to get a fire going. Hey, are you feeling okay?” Blaine asked, seeing that Kurt was now lying down with his head in his hands.

 

“Its just a headache. It'll pass,” Kurt said, but winced when he turned his face to try to find Blaine. It had only been about two hours since Blaine had given him the aspirin, so he didn't want to give him any more and morphine was a bit drastic.

 

“Here, I found some young coconuts. I'll get some water out of one and you can have something to drink. I think you might be dehydrated. That can cause a headache,” Blaine said and moved to cup Kurt's cheek with his hand to comfort him. As a doctor, Blaine knew touch could be very useful in healing – or just to calm an anxious person.

 

As soon as his hand touched Kurt's face he flinched and jumped back, letting out a small shriek.

 

“Hey...don't touch me. That's not all right,” Kurt grumbled, holding his arms around his chest and bringing up his knees.

 

“I'm sorry, Kurt. I was just seeing if you had a temperature. I didn't think...” Blaine started to explain, but Kurt interrupted him.

 

“No, you obviously didn't think. I'm not used to having people paw me when I don't know what's coming at me...so don't do that again, okay?” he said, looking past Blaine's shoulder with a cold, icy stare.

 

“Sure, Kurt. I'll remember that.”

 

Blaine looked through the first aid/survival kit and found a tool that looked like an ice pick. He used pressure to poke it through the 'eyes' of the first coconut, then the second. He tried one and the water inside the nut was a little sweet and so cool and good it was hard to stop and see to Kurt. Blaine knew Kurt was probably just frightened, so he kept his personal feelings in check as he came close and spoke in a soft voice, careful not to sound condescending.

 

“I have the coconut ready. There are three holes poked in the end, one to drink from and two for air. I will help you to begin with if you don't mind, we need to conserve as much as possible, but you should drink as much of this as you can. I can't help you much if you get too dehydrated. Now, are you ready?”

 

“Yes,” Kurt said, relaxing a little even if he did shiver when Blaine's arm brushed against him.

 

“Okay, put this here and seal your lips around the hole, then we'll tip it back so you can drink,” Blaine explained, placing the coconut. Kurt pursed his pink lips a bit and Blaine guided the coconut to them, holding it steady. Kurt's hands covered Blaine's on the coconut as he drank as much as he could, sucking at the hole to try and drink faster. Blaine tipped the nut back after about five swallows.

 

“Oh....is that all there was?” Kurt sounded sad but resigned.

 

“No, there's a lot more, but I think its best if you take it slowly. Its been a long time since you had anything to drink. I don't know how long we were asleep when we washed up here, so let's drink slowly. Are you ready for a little more?”

 

Kurt nodded and put his hands in the same position, letting Blaine help him to get more to drink.

 

“Are you drinking, too?” Kurt asked, suddenly concerned that Blaine was giving everything to him.

 

“Yes. I just set yours down so I could drink a bit. Don't worry, we're going to be fine,” Blaine assured Kurt, although from what he could see they might not be fine. He didn't want to worry Kurt when he could so easily go into shock.

 

“Did you check the duffel bags yet?” Kurt asked.

 

“No, I was going to walk around a little more to find some wood to burn, then get a fire started,” Blaine said.

 

“Can I help?” Kurt asked, feeling useless.

 

“Not right now. Let's let that gash on your head stop bleeding for a while, then you and I can look for more wood later. Okay?”

 

“Yes, mother,” Kurt snarked and turned his back, once again bringing his knees up to his chin and resting his head on them.

 

 

Blaine got a fire going with the matches in the first aid kit and found a metal container in a duffel bag. He put a bit of the water in the container and set the crab in to make a sort of steamed dish. Kurt seemed to be asleep, but when the scent of cooking crab meat began to waft through the air he woke up.

 

“I found some seaweed and cooked that, and there's crab if you're hungry, Kurt,” Blaine offered. The preferred food of a coconut crab is, of course, coconuts so the meat is sweet and juicy.

 

“I'd appreciate that, Blaine. Thank you,” Kurt said. He tried to be careful, but it was hard to feed yourself when you can't see the plate and your head is dizzy, so Kurt ended up with food all over his face and chest. He was embarrassed because he could feel where it had spilled and even though he'd done his best to clean up as he went along he knew he was a mess.

 

“That was wonderful, Blaine...I have never had a better seafood dinner in my life.”

 

Blaine grinned, but realized it was lost on Kurt.

 

“Well, hunger is the best appetizer as the poets say, but you're welcome. I think we need to get some sort of shelter for the night. The clouds are gathering and I think we're in for another storm tonight.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Okay, I have a makeshift shelter started. I just used some pieces of driftwood to make an arch with two palm trees, then added long palm leaves and tied them on with the thin rope I found in the survival kit. There was a canvas tarp and I covered it all with that to keep out the rain,” Blaine reported as he sat down next to Kurt by the fire.

 

“Can you lead me there? I'm getting really chilled,” Kurt asked. Blaine took Kurt's hand and walked slowly to the log he'd set in front of the shelter, helping him to a comfortable seat. He set rocks in a ring and gathered driftwood to make a fireplace of sorts. Bringing a lit stick with him from the first fire, he lit the new fire, hoping it was warm enough to take away Kurt's chill.

 

“It feels like the wind is picking up. What does the sky look like?” Kurt asked, afraid Blaine was right and they might be in for another storm.

 

“It feels cooler to me, too. The sky is gray with big black thunderclouds, but they're not directly overhead. With this wind, they might just blow by us. At least that's what I'm hoping,” Blaine said. “I'm going down to the shore to see if I can drag the duffel bags up here. I'm hoping their might be blankets or something. If there are, I need to get them dry as soon as possible, they're soaked in seawater. I have a feeling we're going to need them tonight,” Blaine said, hoping Kurt would show some sign of friendliness.

 

“Okay. I think if you could help me into the shelter I need to lie down. My head hurts and now my stomach is queasy,” Kurt said, holding out his hand. Blaine moved quickly to help him.

 

“Try not to vomit if you can help it, that will dehydrate you even more,” a concerned Blaine warned.

 

“Its not as if I want to or that I enjoy it, I might not be able to help myself. Don't worry, I'll clean it up myself,” Kurt said with venom in his voice and turned around so he was facing the back of the shelter before lying down, curled into a fetal position.

 

“Kurt, I didn't mean it like that. I was just worried about you. Tell me if you think you're going to be sick and I can try to help,” he said, but got no response. He finally gave up and walked back to the shore, dragging the heavy duffel bags up by the shelter.

 

Opening the first one produced a couple of blankets, stinking of the odor of wet wool. Blaine smiled – even wet, wool was able to keep its warmth. There were some clothes in the bag, shirts and pants that looked to belong to one of the crew members. Then there were a few toiletries: toothpaste, a comb, shaving supplies, soap. There was a small metal box, but it was shut with a lock, so Blaine just set it aside, thinking there probably wasn't anything inside to help in survival.

 

He threw the blankets and clothes over the brush in hopes the wind would dry them by morning and went on to the next bag. It, too, had some clothes: jeans and shirts but in a smaller size. There were cans of food in this one and a leather wrapped bundle that contained a sharp machete.

 

Draping these things over more brush, Blaine left the third one for later and went into the shelter to check on Kurt. He was still in the same position and a quiet inquiry didn't get a response, so Blaine went over to look closer. Kurt was asleep, curled in on himself, and shaking. Blaine felt his forehead and found he was very hot. There wasn't a thermometer in the first aid kit, but Blaine estimated it to be around 102. Maybe a littler higher. It had been four hours, so as soon as he woke up, Blaine planned to give him more aspirin.

 

Drinking water was at a premium, so he went to a place nearby to pick up ripe coconuts so he could try to get Kurt to drink some more. Coconuts seemed to be all over the place they had landed, so Blaine was more willing to drink the coconut water and not be as conservative as he was with the water. Besides, coconuts contain electrolytes and if Kurt was dehydrated it would help him regain what he'd lost. Blaine also thought he himself might be dehydrated and so he planned to drink more coconut water, too.

 

Finding several on the ground that seemed promising, he poked holes in them and drained the resulting water into a plastic container he'd found in the survival kit. It had a lid that screwed on, which was lucky in this heat and would also keep it from contamination.

 

Going back to check on Kurt, he found the wound from the debris to be red and swollen. He wasn't sure what had hit Kurt until he was examining it closely and saw splinters embedded in the skin. That had to be what was causing the fever – an infection. He pressed gently and pus burst out of the dried scabs.

 

“Kurt, wake up. I need to wash this wound and get some antibiotics in you. Can you wake up for me?” Blaine asked in a soft voice. He stroked Kurt's cheek to try and wake him, but got a swat with Kurt's hand in return.

 

“Don't touch me!” he squealed, curling up tighter and placing one arm over his head.

 

“Hey, I'm just trying to help. You have a fever and your wound is infected. I wanted you to take some aspirin,” Blaine defended himself. Kurt's snapping and grouchy demeanor were beginning to wear on his nerves.

 

“I was sleeping...that should be enough,” Kurt said, starting to roll over on his other side when the pain in his head hit. He grabbed at his head, holding it in his arms and moaned.

 

“Let me see. I can tell its infected – I'm going to have to remove those splinters. What hit you?” Blaine asked, determined to get the wound seen to whether Kurt liked it or not.

 

“Okay, but be careful, it hurts like fuck,” Kurt said, slowly moving his hands away. Blaine guided him into the sunlight and sat him back on the log, then went to get the first aid kit. He found tweezers, antibiotic ointment, and gauze pads.

 

“Lie back with your head in my lap, Kurt, just like this....” he helped Kurt to get into a position that he could see the wound clearly. “Now, this might hurt, so let me know if you need me to stop,” he said and began by pulling the tweezers out of the small cup of alcohol he had them soaking in. He was as gentle as he could be, removing slivers of the wood that had apparently fallen and somehow hit Kurt's head. The wood was rotten, so it was both difficult and time consuming to keep pulling the tiny pieces from the gaping wound.

 

“The good news is that although this is a pretty deep cut, it didn't crack your skull. I don't see any pieces of bone,” Blaine said, dabbing some iodine on the edge where he was done pulling splinters.

 

“It hurts,” Kurt said. “How long do you think we're going to be on this...whatever. Is this an island?”

 

“I think so. This part of the Caribbean is filled with little islands and atolls. From what I could see, this is either a small island or it's a tiny peninsula, but I didn't see any larger piece of land where it might be connected. I think we should go and look in the morning to see if it's connected to something. It's too late tonight to really go anywhere. Are you thirsty?” Blaine asked, worried that Kurt might be getting dehydrated in the wind and heat.

 

“A little. The coconut water was good, though. Thank you,” Kurt said. He was emotional, distraught, and angry at everything but his manners were still there.

 

“I think we can open one of these canned rations for tonight, the sun is setting and I don't think its safe to go looking for food right now,” Blaine sad, finding the can opener and wondering what was in the can marked simply “Ration for Survival #72”. He hoped that wasn't the year it was canned.

 

Inside he found peanut butter. Well, it could be worse. There were some dry hard tack in the sealed survival kit.

 

“Peanut butter?” Kurt asked, his head turning towards the open can, sniffing the air.

 

“Yeah...I thought we could eat it on these dry crackers. They're kind of hard to chew....”

 

“Maybe if we soak them in the coconut water? We could have some sort of..mush?” Kurt suggested.

 

“Sounds like a plan. I'll open a few more coconuts,” Blaine offered.

 

“How many do we have left?” Kurt sounded anxious, and Blaine couldn't blame him. He put himself in Kurt's shoes – his father with heart problems, washed ashore on a deserted island, couldn't see. He would be in a panic. Kurt was made of much stronger stuff, Blaine concluded. He admired a man with that kind of guts, not to mention Kurt was one beautiful specimen with his pale clear skin and those ocean-blue eyes with tiny flecks of golden sunshine....Blaine shook his head. It was hardly the time to be crushing on the boy he was in this trouble with. He got back to fixing dinner for them.

 

Kurt had read that coconuts would crack open easier if they were heated, so he suggested this to Blaine. In about twenty minutes they were eating dinner: hard tack soaked in coconut water, pieces of the coconut which had been sort of toasted in the fire, and a few spoonfuls of peanut butter. For dessert, they both had a half cup of the water.

 

“Is it night now? I'm colder than I was a while ago, so I'm guessing the sun is lower?” Kurt asked, curbing his impulse to cling to Blaine's arm.

 

“Yeah, it just set a few minutes ago. Here, the wool blankets are dry. Do you feel like going to sleep? I can make up some type of bed for us,” Blaine offered.

 

“I'm pretty sleepy. I still don't feel very well – the headache is still there, but at least the nausea is gone,” Kurt murmured and Blaine had to lean close in the wind to hear him.

 

Blaine dug a shallow trench in the soft soil and laid down some palm fronds, then put the thinnest blanket over it. He went back to lead Kurt to the bed and helped him lie down, covering him with the two heavier blankets. They may be in the tropics, but with the storm coming and the winds it could be cold during the night.

 

Blaine piled a lot more wood on the fire, hoping it would burn most of the night under the sheltering trees. Then he went into the shelter, feeling tired to the bone, and started to climb into the make-shift bed.

 

“Hey! You don't think you're sleeping here, do you?” Kurt said, sounding both scared and angry.

 

“Ah, well, yeah. We both have our clothes on. There isn't anywhere else to sleep. The shelter is only big enough for the one bed and....” Blaine said, confused.

 

“I don't even know you, what makes you think I'd allow you to sleep with me?” Kurt said, bitterness seeping through every syllable. “I don't know what you might do.”

 

“Kurt, I promise I won't lay a hand on you. Just because I'm gay does _not_ mean I'm on the prowl for conquests or recruits on deserted islands in a fucking storm. I just thought it would keep us warmer and I'm still worried about your headaches. If you don't trust me, you're welcome to sleep elsewhere. Now, I'm going to lie down in the bed I made and get some much-needed sleep. Stay or go, I don't care,” Blaine snapped back, reaching the end of his patience.

 

He had tried his best all day long to make it safe and comfortable for Kurt in this crisis and he didn't appreciate being accused of something that hadn't even crossed his mind. Yes, he appreciated Kurt for his good looks and the way he loved his father, but other than that the boy had been rude and selfish. Blaine had had enough and he rolled over with one of the blankets after having tossed the other one at Kurt's face.

 

 


	3. The Night

   Kurt sat in the corner of the shelter, his knees against his chest and his arms folded on his knees, wrapped tightly in the warm wool blanket. He rested his forehead on his arms and tried to fall asleep. He wanted to trust this Blaine guy – but it was too soon and he was too scared. His head hurt so badly and now plus his throat was scratchy and dry from crying. He'd spent most of the night crying. He had managed to get up and find the pile of wood to feed the fire, keeping it going. He was absurdly proud of himself for doing that and wondered if his eyesight would return in the morning. 

 

It was almost dawn before the storm hit, full gale. Blaine must have tied the supports to the shelter tightly because it was holding, but it didn't matter much when the wind finally took the last of the walls made of branches and canvas away. The fire was out and the wind was howling, driving rain into the little island. Kurt got disoriented because he had been out feeding the fire when the storm hit and he couldn't find the shelter or his blanket. He finally just sat down by a tree and held on while the rain hit his back. 

Blaine woke up with the first big gale to hit and he called to Kurt. He might be a rude and unpleasant person, but that didn't mean he deserved to be scared in the storm. Blaine tried to find him, which was hard because the fire was out and there was no source of light. Even the moon seemed to be gone. 

“Kurt!” he called, then shouted, crawling around in the shelter and finding Kurt's blanket. What had the little idiot done now? It wasn't safe for him to be out in the storm in the middle of the night. Well, that last part might not matter, midnight or noon wouldn't make much difference to Kurt with his lack of eyesight.

Leaving the shelter, he walked as best he could in concentric circles, but eventually gave up. He wrapped himself up in his blanket to wait for dawn. 

Sitting in the storm, protected by a few trees that grew close together, Blaine had time to think about what had befallen him. He had come to St Thomas when his friend, Wes, invited him. He had finished his residency to become a doctor at NY Columbia, then he was in practice at NY Metro when he ran into the trouble. He sighed. This was probably not the time to revisit that. He was anxious just sitting here. The storm was bad, but not near as bad as the one that had marooned him here. He was shivering a little and wrapped the wool blanket a bit tighter and closed his eyes. He must have dozed a little because when he woke up he could see very dimly around himself and he heard a cry. 

Jumping up from the sand, he walked towards the sound, noticing the sky was a beautiful shell pink and streaks of pale orange were showing across the navy blue. He walked quickly to the shelter of another group of trees and found Kurt huddled in a ball, in full panic attack. Blaine went into doctor mode, pushing away any feelings he might have had concerning the dislike he had of this boy.

“Kurt, I'm going to touch you now,” he said in his calmest voice and reached out one hand to place it on Kurt's back. Kurt exploded, trying to get up and run, but the crippling feeling of not being able to get a breath in stopped him before he made it to his feet.

“Calm down. You are having a panic attack. Do you understand?”

Kurt nodded. He remembered the one he'd had when he was with his dad at the hospital, but that only made him think of how his father must be feeling with him missing and his whole chest felt like it was being crushed. He flailed a little, then lay still, curling back up into a ball.

“Kurt, listen to my voice. I'm going to touch you to take your pulse. Then you need to calm down and think about taking one small breath. Just one. Can you do that?” Blaine said in a calm, well-modulated voice. He reached over to take Kurt's hand, but it was snatched back and so he felt under Kurt's chin to his neck. His heartbeat was very high. 

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked and Kurt shook his head 'no'. “Okay, I'm going to put my arms around you for a few moments to help you relax. I am only going to hold you, nothing else. Is that okay?” he asked, worried that Kurt would reject him once again.

Kurt's eyes opened and Blaine could see he was trying to find his face to gauge his sincerity maybe? – but realizing once again that he was blind sent Kurt into a worse space and he began to tremble violently. 

“Kurt, can I touch you?” Blaine asked in a firm voice. He would not touch Kurt without permission given the way he'd acted last night, but he wanted to help so badly.

“Yes,” Kurt whispered and turned, opening his arms just a bit. Blaine took the boy into his arms, pulling him close to his chest.

“Listen to my heartbeat, Kurt,” Blaine said, guiding the boy's head to rest against his chest. “I want you to just listen and relax your body. Start with your head and relax your neck muscles, then think about the air flowing in. The air is going in to fill your lungs, relax your chest so it can go in. There, now relax your arms flowing all the way down to your hands and fingers,” Blaine said very softly and slowly, stroking Kurt's back and his upper arms as he held him with his other arm. Kurt's arms were wrapped tightly around him and he could hear the beginnings of his breaths slowing, getting deeper. He continued to speak clearly but so softly, lulling Kurt into breathing again. It took a long time and Blaine was shouting underneath, he knew it was working and he had to have patience. He felt Kurt's arms and shoulders finally give in, the muscles not so tight. It was working.

“Don't be afraid, Kurt. I'll stand by you,” Blaine said, just talking without thought, trying to think of words that might be calming. Then he got the idea to sing:

 

“ _I'll stand by you_  
I'll stand by you   
Won't let nobody hurt you   
I'll stand by you”

 

Kurt's arms tightened just a bit more, holding Blaine with his fists wrapped in the man's shirt. Blaine stroked down Kurt's cheek, but he winced and Blaine moved his hand back to running it down his back once again.

“ _I'll stand by you_  
I'll stand by you   
Won't let nobody hurt you   
I'll stand by you   
Take me in, into your darkest hour   
And I'll never desert you   
I'll stand by you   
And when...   
When the night falls on you, baby   
You're feeling all alone   
You won't be on your own   
I'll stand by you   
I'll stand by you   
Won't let nobody hurt you”

 

Blaine could see that the panic attack was almost gone, so he skipped to the chorus again, hoping the quiet words would bring about a little trust between them.

 

“ _I'll stand by you_  
Take me in, into your darkest hour   
And I'll never desert you   
I'll stand by you   
I'll stand by you   
Won't let nobody hurt you   
I'll stand by you   
Won't let nobody hurt you   
I'll stand by you”

 

Kurt took a deep breath, “You remind me of someone...but I can't remember who. I am feeling better, Blaine. Thank you. I'm sorry if I was a burden to you,” Kurt said, struggling to get away from the man holding him so closely. Blaine did not want to let Kurt go, although he knew that holding him against his will would just make things worse.

“You are not a burden. We can work together to do what needs to be done. For now, the rain is letting up so let's go clean up the campsite and get some food. We need to put the blankets somewhere to dry, too, in case it rains again,” Blaine said and tried to take Kurt's hand to lead him.

Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine's and gripped his elbow.

“This is easier for me, okay?” he asked and Blaine agreed. They got back to the shelter and Kurt asked what it looked like.

“Its kind of a mess. I mean, I had it looking like the prize-winner of Home and Garden Magazine. It was beautiful! An adobe house with trellises full of clematis flowers and a bed of roses, the house had five bedrooms and a view of Mt. Hood. It was stupendous, I tell you,” Blaine kidded.

“Right. I bet it was a sad little shelter of palm branches with a sad little fire and gray skies. I kept the fire going most of the night by myself,” Kurt said, hoping to get some recognition for his efforts.

“You did? Thank you. I would have helped, you just had to wake me,” Blaine smiled. He hoped the smile showed through in his voice.

“I did just fine. I only got confused when the rain came. This morning I couldn't find anything familiar and I guess I got scared. Thank you, by the way, for helping me,” Kurt said. He liked that Blaine was so kind to him when he freaked out, but he was still embarrassed by it and wanted to change the subject. “What do you think we can have for breakfast?” 

“Coconuts, and some water. I think I might have seen a banana tree when I was looking for you. I'll go check when we get done cleaning up here,” Blaine suggested. Kurt got down by where the fire used to be, searching with his hands to see if the pit was filled with water. It wasn't.

“I think we can restart the fire if you can find dry wood. That might be a good start?” Kurt suggested.

“How did you know where the fire was?” Blaine asked, surprised when Kurt knelt down.

“I can smell the ashes. Its funny how smells have always bothered me and now my superhuman ability to smell is actually a help. I always thought of it as a curse,” Kurt said, smiling past Blaine's shoulder. 

Blaine noticed how Kurt was still wincing when he moved his head and closed his eyes from time to time.

“Does your head hurt?” he asked. Kurt didn't answer, just closed his eyes tighter and put a hand over them. 

“Yeah, but it feels better if I close my eyes for some reason. That doesn't make sense,” Kurt said, covering his whole face with both hands.

“I've got an idea. Here, sit still for a moment, I'll be right back.”

Blaine went to look through some of the clothes he had set out to dry on the bushes. He found a white shirt that had less dirt on it than most and ripped it into a long thick strip. He went back to Kurt.

“Here, I'm going to put a bandage around your face to cover your eyes. It might help with keeping the sunlight out and it might feel better. Okay?” Blaine asked, hoping the angry and petulant Kurt of yesterday wouldn't resurface.

“Okay,” Kurt agreed. He'd do anything to get rid of this headache. Blaine gently tied the strip around Kurt's head and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I think we're going to be okay, Kurt. I really do. Now, I need to check the pots I set out to catch rainwater. I could use a drink,” he said. Kurt brushed his fingers over Blaine's hand for a moment.

“Thanks, I hope we will be. Can I help with the water?” Kurt offered.

“How about you put the wood in the fire. You know how to make it into a teepee shape and then I have some coconut stuff to use to start it. I'll pour the water into our covered containers. Be right back,” Blaine said. 

He walked down to the shore looking for the open bin he'd washed yesterday and left to get rainwater. It was a part of the boat, the place where the first aid/survival kit had been. It was metal and about two feet square. It was almost full and Blaine grinned. They would be able to drink a full glass today maybe. He scanned the sky and saw that although it was sunny now, those black clouds hadn't left. He sighed and put the lid on the container, hoping most of it would be safe from evaporation. He didn't see any leaks or anything. Then he found the plastic sheet from the survival kit that he had made a sort of reservoir of by placing the corners on sticks. It didn't hold much, but he filled the gallon jug with the fresh water and another empty container he'd found on the beach. It was a large can that had contained tomato juice at one time – he could smell it. He washed it in the sea water several times until it smelled clean, then filled it, too. He drank all he could hold out of the plastic sheet before leaving it. 

Walking along the shore for a few minutes, he saw a few tide pools and in one of them were some mussels. He pried them off the rock and put them in his shirt. There wasn't anything else on the beach, so he walked back to where he and Kurt had made camp.

Kurt had finished the fire pit, rearranging the rocks in a circle and putting the dry driftwood in a perfect teepee. Under the sticks was a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Hey, where did you get the paper?” Blaine asked. Kurt jumped – he hadn't heard Blaine walk up. 

“It was in one of the duffel bags...but I didn't try to light it. I thought I better see if it said something important first,” he smiled in Blaine's direction.

Blaine walked over to the paper and looked at it.

“Nope, it's a blank sheet. Is there more?” he asked.

“Yeah, that bag had a lot of stuff in it. Some books and clothes, shoes, some cans and what felt like fishing line? Also a book of hooks. Maybe we can go fishing?” Kurt said.

Blaine agreed and turned to see what he could do to fix up the hastily made shelter from yesterday. He was surprised to see that Kurt had cleared out all the debris: branches and leaves that had blown into it during the storm. The trench for the bed had been redug and soft leaves covered it, then the thin blanket.

“Wow, you've been working!” Blaine said, happy to see Kurt was not as depressed as he had been yesterday. 

“Light the fire and then is there some water? I was....ah...” Kurt was too embarrassed to tell Blaine what he'd been doing.

“What?”

Kurt blushed. “I was licking the leaves. I was so thirsty, Blaine, and I didn't know where the water was or how long you'd be gone. So, when I felt that the leaves of the palm trees you used for the shelter were wet, I licked them.”

Blaine coughed, his mind going exactly the place Kurt was afraid it would go. Kurt blushed even more, turning his head from where he assumed Blaine was. 

“Smart. I feel bad I left without giving you water, though. I drank my fill at the shore,” he said, going on to explain about the water he'd been able to save from the rainstorm while he filled the cup with water for Kurt. He handed him the cup and Kurt drained it in a few gulps and asked if it would be okay if he had more.

“Of course, drink your fill now while we have it to spare. I have the container by the beach covered, so its safe.”

“I also collected more coconuts. I keep tripping over them, so I got the idea to just keep them in a pile over here so we could use them first,” Kurt said. Blaine smiled at him, but realized Kurt couldn't see his smile, so he patted his shoulder gently. Kurt still jumped, but this time he didn't pull away. Blaine called that progress.

Blaine set the mussels on a stone he'd put over the fire and they opened. He let them cook a bit more and Kurt started sniffing, his head towards the odor.

“What are you cooking? It smells wonderful!” Kurt said. He had been thinking about the crab they'd had yesterday all night long.

“Mussels. And coconut. Oh, and I stopped by where I thought I'd seen a banana tree, and there was one. I got six bananas that were ripe,” he said, handing the shell he'd found to use as a plate to Kurt. “Be careful, the mussels are hot.”

Kurt ate the food on the plate, commenting on how wonderful the food was. It really tasted good in his empty belly.

“Thanks, but its just what we found. I'm afraid we might get a little more than tired of it by the time we're rescued.”

“Speaking of....how possible is it that we're going to be found?” Kurt asked. Blaine wanted to lie to him, tell him it might only be a few days, but he couldn't. 

“I just don't know. I think we must be on an atoll or a cay, but there are like 3,000 of them in the Caribbean. I think we need to make some effort to make a sign on the beach, then maybe some sort of signal fire? I saw sea-grape on the beach and it has oil that makes it smoke when it's on fire,” Blaine said.

“What's an atoll and a cay?” Kurt asked.

“An atoll is a sort of ring-shaped island made of coral surrounding a lagoon or other body of water. A cay is a small sandy island on a coral reef. For our purposes I think it doesn't matter which. If we're here for very long, maybe a few more days, we can go explore. It might be just a piece of land jutting out from a larger island, like St Kit or something.”

“Let's hope that's what it is.”

Blaine had nothing to say to that, so he just got back to work, gathering the blankets from the bushes and folding them neatly in the shelter. Then he began the task of putting more branches on the shelter. Kurt was of tremendous help here. Blaine had saved the cord he'd used yesterday and Kurt would hold the branch straight while Blaine wrapped it to the frame. It took most of the morning and into the afternoon to get the shelter to look sturdy enough to last for a while. 

“Are you getting tired, Kurt?” Blaine asked. He couldn't see Kurt's eyes because of the bandage he'd placed there that morning, but he could see the furrows in his forehead where the bandage had slipped.

“Yeah, but I want to get this done before I rest. How much more to go?” he asked.

“I think we're about finished. The frame looks steady and we have a double layer of leaves on it now. Let's stop and eat, it must be past noon,” Blaine guessed by the position of the sun.

He took several more bananas and some of the coconut flesh he'd pried from the shell and put them on the shell-plates. Kurt took his when he felt it touch his hand and began to eat. Blaine nibbled at his portion, worried about how far from civilization they really were and what their chances were of being found. 

“I've got a headache, Blaine. Mind if I just lie down for a short time before we get back to work?” Kurt asked. He was holding his head in his hands again.

“We can both rest. Here, we can get into the bed and stay out of the sun for a while. I”m worried about you getting sun burned.”

“What about yourself?”

“I don't burn easily, but you're right. I should stay out of the sun for long periods in the hot part of the day, too,” he agreed.

“What does your skin look like?” Kurt asked.

“Ah...well, where your skin is that beautiful Irish pale ivory with pink lips, mine is more of a golden color with dark rosy lips. I have a stubble that is about to become a beard if I can't find shaving supplies. I guess you know I'm shorter than you are by a few inches,” he laughed and Kurt grinned.

“Yeah, I noticed that. What did you do before you became a professional Robinson Crusoe?” he asked, but just then there was an acrid scent of fire burning something and Blaine jumped to see to it. Some of the seagrape leaves had fallen off the top of the pile and landed in the fire, causing the black, oily smoke to billow out. 

“Ewwww, what is that?” Kurt asked when he didn't hear Blaine rushing to an emergency.

“Some of the seagrape fell in the fire. It stinks along with being very oily and making black clouds. I was gathering it because the fruit is good to eat when it's ripe, and the leaves and stems make the black smoke. I was going to put it down on the beach in case we hear a boat or a plane or something,” Blaine said, pulling the last of the stems out of the fire and stamping them out with his boot heel. 

“Okay...I think I'm going to lie down. My headache is worse,” Kurt said and found his way to the shelter, crawling into the makeshift bed. He heard Blaine follow him in. Kurt was lying on the blanket and Blaine knelt above his head.

“I brought you a cool rag for your forehead and some aspirin. Here, I have a cup of coconut water for you, too.”

“Thanks,” Kurt answered. He sat up and took the aspirin, then lay back down after Blaine removed the bandages from his eyes. 

“Here, lie on your front and I can rub the muscles in your neck and shoulders. It might make you feel better,” Blaine offered. Kurt was hesitant, but his head hurt so badly. He agreed and Blaine began to softly rub his neck, humming a song quietly as he moved his warm hands in soft circles and gentle strokes as Kurt got sleepier. When he was done with his neck, he laid the cool cloth there and ran his hands down Kurt's back, stroking as he had his neck until the muscles relaxed and Kurt was asleep. He covered him with the blanket – it was still a chilly wind today – and lay down a short distance away to take a nap. He'd barely laid his head down when he was sound asleep, once more exhausted from work and worry. 

 

An hour later, Kurt sat up, shouting and crying out for his dad. Blaine was up in a moment, snapping into consciousness as only a doctor can. He rushed over to Kurt to calm him before another panic attack should start.

“Kurt, its okay, I'm here with you. Its Blaine...” he said in his calm voice, though his heart was pounding with the adrenaline pumping through his veins.


	4. The Natural Spring

Blaine was by Kurt's side in a second, reaching to hold him, bring him some comfort. What he got was a punch to his stomach. It was lucky that Kurt was not fully awake because it hurt enough just being a random blow.

 

“Hey, Kurt! What the hell...” Blaine burst out before he regained his senses and made himself calm down. He sat a few feet from Kurt, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. Kurt was thrashing on the bed, looking as if he were still asleep but maybe having a nightmare?

 

“Kurt, can you hear me?” Blaine asked. Kurt just lay there, his chest going up and down as he hyperventilated. Blaine knew he wasn't really going to harm himself with just that – the worst he could do would be to feel dizzy and pass out. For a split second Blaine wished he would.

 

“Kurt. Do you know where you are?”

 

Kurt stopped thrashing and Blaine could see he was doing his best to lie still and collect himself. “Yeah, I'm on this island with you,” he said, quietly. He had stopped breathing so heavily and turned his body away from Blaine.

 

Blaine moved to sit beside him and asked if he could touch him.

 

“Why?” Kurt asked.

 

“I just want to try to help you feel calmer. I won't do anything to hurt you, Kurt,” he said. Then he waited. Finally Kurt turned on his back.

 

“Okay,” he whispered. If Blaine hadn't been right next to the scared boy, he would never have heard it.

 

Blaine placed his hand gently on Kurt's chest and rubbed small circles, going up towards his neck – which he skipped because most people are ticklish there. He placed his fingers on Kurt's temples and rubbed, his soft warm hands making Kurt's headache better. They stayed there for a while, Kurt's eyes closed as Blaine gave him comforting touches to get him to stay calm.

 

“Now, tell me what happened,” Blaine suggested in a very soft voice and Kurt began to tell him about his father's heart attack and his idea to take him on a vacation so he didn't have to think about his shop when he was too ill to go back yet. He told Blaine all about how happy he was that they could go, about the terrible shopping choices his dad made, making them both laugh as Kurt described the loud Hawaiian print shirts with Bermuda shorts and Birkenstocks with socks.

 

“I thought it would be the best thing for him, but he got sick again. We had to take him in a helicopter to St Thomas and then I had an anxiety attack apparently, although I don't really remember having one. It was confusing and I was so scared.”

 

“Tell me about that,” Blaine's voice asked and Kurt stopped.

 

“What? Oh - don't I know your voice from somewhere?” Kurt asked, a puzzled look now crossing his face.

 

“Maybe. Where do you think you know me from?” he asked.

 

“You're the voice at the hospital. Aren't you? You were there and held me when I was so scared about my dad,” Kurt tried to turn his face to see Blaine, but of course he couldn't actually see him. Kurt let out a small grunt if frustration at that.

 

“Yes. I didn't recognize you at first, when you saved my life in the sea, but I did once we were on land. I didn't want to scare you any more than you already were, Kurt, so forgive me for not telling you, but I'm glad you remembered,” Blaine said, continuing to rub Kurt's temples.

 

“You're a doctor. Did you see my dad? There were a few other people in the room. Which one was you?” Kurt asked.

 

  “I don't think you saw me. When I was helping you, your eyes were tight shut. By the time we got the medication into you, you were unconscious. I stayed with you for over an hour, but another emergency came in and I had to go to help a little girl. Your dad was with you by then, so I knew you would be okay. I'm sorry I had to leave after promising to stay, I did try my best,” Blaine tried to explain, feeling somehow inadequate.

 

“Its okay, you made me feel safe. You did it again this morning...thank you, Dr....ah...”

 

“Well, its Anderson, but please call me Blaine. I much prefer it - we're friends, aren't we? Not just doctor and patient. Right?” Blaine wanted Kurt to be his friend. He didn't think too deeply about why he wanted this so much, he just did.

 

“Okay....Blaine.” Kurt said, not sure about calling a doctor by his first name, no matter that he'd been calling him that since they landed on the island.

 

They sat quiet for a while, Kurt able to relax a bit more, enjoying the massage. His headache was almost gone.

 

“So, Doc, what's your professional opinion about my head? Why am I blind now?” Kurt asked, trying to sound nonchalant but Blaine could hear the anxiety underneath.

 

“Without diagnostic testing, there is no way to know for sure. I can hazard a guess, but it might not be accurate,” he said, worried that he might upset Kurt.

 

“Just a guess would be fine. I'm not going to turn you into the AMA if you're wrong you know,” Kurt attempted to joke.

 

“Okay, this is my best guess considering your symptoms and what you told me. I think that when you were struck with the flying debris, it hit your head hard enough to make your brain bleed. I think that it caused some blood to get into or around the nerve that governs your vision, your optic nerve. That would be explain why you weren't blind immediately, your sight fading and blurring as the bleeding continued for a while and kept increasing the pressure on that nerve, eventually blocking it so much that it caused total blindness. It took time to bleed enough to block your vision. I think when we get back to civilization there could be a quick surgery to clear this up and you'll see again. The other thing that might happen is that the blood will dissipate and you will gradually see again without any interference from the medical community,” Blaine said. He sighed, not wanting to tell Kurt the rest, but knowing the boy had the right to know. He took a deep breath and went on.

 

“It's also possible that it damaged the nerves enough that you will always be blind, but I'm hoping that isn't the case.”

 

Kurt sat still, taking this all in. It sounded like good news, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know Blaine or how good a doctor he was or even his specialty. Kurt wanted to believe him, he wanted it so badly.

 

“I also have something to tell you that might be good news. My cell is broken...it got waterlogged and I can't make calls. For some reason it kept the last transmission I got yesterday after I was swept off the ferry. Shall I read it to you?”

 

Kurt nodded.

 

 

 

To: Dr. B. Anderson: Re: Updates: patient status: Dawson, C. upgraded to fair; Hummel, B. upgraded to good and released; Speyer, J. guarded, trans to ICU.

 

 

 

“So, they let my dad out last night?” Kurt asked.

 

“Yes. He didn't have a heart attack, Kurt. Didn't they explain that to you?” Blaine asked.

 

“Yeah, but I was pretty upset after having been there for the first one. He was in a coma for three weeks that time. I was so scared,” Kurt whispered.

 

“I know. This time we got him on the right medication and he just needs to get back with his cardiologist where you live. I forgot, where is that?”

 

“Lima, Ohio.”

 

Blaine laughed.

 

“What's so funny?” Kurt asked.

 

“I grew up a skip and a jump away from there. I'm from Westerville.”

 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. Wow, bad news – no wonder you're hanging around the Virgin Islands,” Kurt smirked.

 

“Hey, what's wrong with Westerville?” Blaine said, suddenly on the defensive for his hometown. Then he wondered why - he had hated living in Ohio. He'd moved to New York the minute he graduated.

 

“Well, for one thing it's the home of our arch rivals, the Dalton Warblers. They're a...”

 

“Show Choir,” Blaine finished for him. Kurt sat with his mouth open for a moment, then got control of himself.

 

“How did you know that?”

 

“I was their lead singer for three years. We won Nationals those three years, Kurt. I am well aware of the Warblers,” he said with a laugh in his voice. “And you should be thankful, too. Your Dad's cardiologist at the hospital in St Thomas was Wes Montgomery. He was a Warbler with me,” Blaine finished. Kurt grinned.

 

“Well, I guess we'll have to go easy on them at Regionals this year, right?” Kurt said, tongue firmly in cheek. Blaine hit him lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Oh, really? You're in show choir?”

 

“The New Directions,” Kurt said proudly.

 

“The what?” Blaine asked, trying to recall a team with that name. “I thought Vocal Adrenaline was the choir from around there,” Blaine said.

 

“Oh, you wound me, Dr. Anderson! Actually, there probably wasn't another one from Lima when you were there – what was that, twenty years ago or so?”

 

Blaine choked. “How old do you think I am, Mr. Hummel?”

 

“If you're a doctor...well, much older than me!”

 

“I'll have you know I am only 27. I graduated early and went straight to pre-med at Columbia. So it was less than ten years,” Blaine said.

 

“Only ten?” Kurt laughed again. Blaine rolled his eyes and made a scoffing sound, giving Kurt a play fist to his upper arm. He giggled.

 

 

 

“I need to go get some dinner ready and drag that seagrape down to the shore for the signal fire.”

 

“I'll help. My headache is mostly gone and you're so short, you probably need help over those dunes, right?”

 

“Its about time you decided to pull your own weight,” Blaine said, trying to kid with Kurt, but without being able to see his face, Kurt misunderstood. He resolved to do something to make himself more useful.

 

“If its okay, I think I might just stay here for a while. I'll help you stack firewood or something when you get back,” Kurt said and turned to find his way back to the shelter.

 

Blaine looked at him with concern, he had seemed fine just a few minutes ago.

 

“Okay, well – rest if you can. Does your head still hurt?” Blaine asked.

 

“Yeah, where that gash is. I think if I just lie down for a while I'll be right as rain when you get back,” Kurt lied.

 

“All right,” Blaine said and walked down to the beach, his arms full of seagrape.

 

<+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+><+>

 

 

 

Kurt stumbled over the rocks but caught himself. He had always been graceful and it hadn't taken much time for him to find his new balance even with the blindness. He could walk on a straight, flat surface fairly well. Climbing on the rocks was proving to be a bit more difficult.

 

He had known there were cliffs towards the north of the beach because Blaine had told him and it stood to reason that if there was a spring on this island, it would be somewhere up here.

 

He walked along, tapping the long piece of bamboo in front of him to make sure he didn't fall off the cliff, but like most teenagers he didn't stop to think that this was dangerous. It was very hot this afternoon and he had the foresight to take along a jar of water that Blaine had left for him. He stopped to take a small swig and wiped his mouth – although he had been so careful that there was no wasted water on his lips, it was habit.

 

He stopped every so often to listen, thinking there might be some small animals on the island – maybe a lizard or something he could bring back. He shook his head – how silly was that? He couldn't see to chase an animal. Maybe, though, if he could hear them moving they might lead him to water.

 

That might have seemed silly, but in the end it turned out to be at least partially true. He heard some birds chirping and followed them only to feel the stick hit the ground and then sink just a bit. He knelt down and felt water under his hands. Following the wetness, he could feel along the rocks until it was dry. The spring was coming up from the split behind the rocks and Kurt could feel it running over his hand. He knew it probably was a dumb thing to do, but he tasted the water.

 

It was cool and sweet and everything he ever imagined the fountain of youth would taste like. It was ambrosia. He was so excited that he wanted to share his discovery with the only other person he could, so he called out to Blaine.

 

There was no response and Kurt was suddenly afraid. How would Blaine find him? How far had he walked? It didn't seem like it was very far. Then another thought presented itself in his mind: how was he going to find his way back? And if he did, how could he tell Blaine where the spring was? He sat down, suddenly unhappy with himself. Why didn't he think this out before just jumping into it?

 

Sitting there on the hard rock, he thought he could hear something in the far distance. It might be Blaine, so he jumped up and started shouting as loudly as he could.

 

“Blaine! Blaine! I'm here!”

 

“Where?” came the faint sound of Blaine from far away.

 

“On the top of some rocks! I think it's north of the beach!” Kurt called.

 

“Kurt? Yell or something. I can't hear you,” Kurt heard even more faintly. Blaine seemed to be moving away, so Kurt decided to do something that would carry his voice farther.

 

He did it before he had given it much thought...he knew his singing voice was very high – he was a countertenor after all, so he sang out:

 

 

 

“Who will buy  
This wonderful morning?  
Such a sky  
You never did see!

 

Who will tie  
It up with a ribbon  
And put it in a box for me?

 

 

 

So I could see it at my leisure  
Whenever things go wrong  
And I would keep it as a treasure  
To last my whole life long.

 

Who will buy  
This wonderful feeling?  
I'm so high  
I swear I could fly

 

  
Me, oh my!  
I don't want to lose it  
So what am I to do  
To keep the sky so blue?  
There must be someone who will buy...”

 

 

 

Blaine was rushing through the trees, following Kurt's voice. He broke through and saw up on the top of the rocks a fair distance away Kurt was standing, holding a bamboo stick and singing. He had a wonderful voice and it went booming all over the island, so sweet and clear. Blaine couldn't help but join in. He sang along as he rushed to catch up with Kurt.

 

 

 

“Who will buy  
This wonderful morning?  
Such a sky  
You never did see!

 

Who will tie  
It up with a ribbon  
And put it in a box for me?

 

There'll never be a day so sunny,  
It could not happen twice.  
Where is the man with all the money?  
It's cheap at half the price!

 

Who will buy  
Who will buy  
This wonderful feeling?  
I'm so high  
I swear I could fly.  
Me, oh my!  
I don't want to lose it  
So what am I to do  
To keep the sky so blue?”

 

 

 

“Hey, 'Oliver'! I know you said you sang in show choir, but that was amazing! I love your voice!” Blaine crowed, throwing his arms around Kurt.

 

Kurt was pushed off balance and struggled to keep from falling on the rocks by grasping Blaine around his neck and holding tight. Blaine realized the danger and held Kurt until he could regain his balance, then he relaxed his hold but didn't let go.

 

“Oh...sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over, Kurt, are you okay?” Blaine asked.

 

“Yeah...gosh, you are such a puppy, Blaine. Are you sure you're a doctor? I mean, aren't doctors supposed to be calm, serious and sedate? You're just a bundle of bouncing Tigger,” Kurt said without thinking.

 

“That was part of the problem, I just wasn't seen as serious enough and then when Brooke died...” he stopped. How had that slipped out? He changed gears, trying to cover up what he'd said. “How did you get all the way up here? I had trouble navigating these rocks, how did you manage?”

 

Kurt heard the change in tone and guessed that Blaine didn't mean to mention the girl...Brooke? Well, he had things in his own past that he didn't want to share, so he cut Blaine some slack and ignored his slip-up.

 

“I wanted to be of some use, so I went looking for a water source or food or something. It was just serendipity that I came across this,” he smiled, bending down to scoop some of the cool water into his hands.

 

“Oh, wow...that's a godsend. If that's good water, we're in luck. I mean, it doesn't rain here very often I don't think,” Blaine said, thankful Kurt hadn't asked about his statement about the girl.

 

“I...ah....tasted it,” Kurt admitted.

 

“Kurt, you should know better than that. Here, let's fill my jug and we can just boil it when we get back to camp. Are you ready to go?”

 

“Yeah. Can I...can I ask a favor?” Kurt wondered.

 

“Sure,” Blaine said, smiling at the bit of blush that colored Kurt's cheeks. He had found himself watching Kurt openly and chastised himself because it wasn't very polite -whether Kurt knew he was doing it or not.

 

“Can I hold on to you to get back? Its hard to navigate on these rocks,” Kurt said.

 

“Of course.”

 

Kurt held out a hand and Blaine took it, moving it to his bicep so Kurt could follow along instead of being tugged. Blaine found himself smiling, Kurt was so cute. He was brave and seemed to be accepting his blindness more today. Blaine could only hope that he was right about the cause being blood in the nerve pathway so that it could be reversed as soon as they got back to civilization.

 

It turned out to be harder to go back to camp than it had been to get to the top of the cliff. Kurt stumbled a lot and was thankful that Blaine was with him to keep him from hurting himself more than was needed. Several times he might have really injured himself if not for Blaine's steady arm and helping hand. They finally got back to camp and Kurt could smell something cooking.

 

“What is that smell? I'm hungry just imagining what it could be,” Kurt said, following his nose closer to the fire pit.

 

“I found a tide pool with a trapped fish. I think it was a sunfish? Anyway, I caught it easily and put it on this banana leaf, then buried it in the coals of the fire. I saw some salt in the survival kit and put a tiny bit on it then wrapped it in some of the kelp I found yesterday. I hope it turns out to be okay. It sure smells good,” Blaine told the boy.

 

“I bet it will taste good with coconuts,” Kurt giggled. Blaine's heart took a leap in his chest. Kurt was the cutest guy he'd seen since he started medical school. Wait – he was also ten years younger than the doctor. Damn, Blaine chastised himself. Couldn't his hormones show some discretion?

 

They sat together by the fire, eating the fish and seaweed and drinking coconut water. Kurt looked very tired, his eyes had dark circles around them when Blaine changed the bandage. It was still cool in the evening, so Blaine looked over the clothes he'd found in the duffel bags.

 

“I think these sailor shirts will fit you and maybe the bell bottom jeans as well,” Blaine said and Kurt gave him a glare. It was over his shoulder, but the man could well imagine how it would feel to have that directed right at him. “I know they aren't exactly a fashion statement, Kurt, but its all we have. Unless you want to make a garment out of banana leaves with coconut shell buttons?”

 

Kurt's face got red and he took in a deep breath, not knowing whether to laugh or huff off in a mood. He swallowed and gave a small chuckle. It was contagious, Blaine started giggling like a kid and Kurt laughed. He found he liked Blaine's laugh – it was warm and good-hearted, not the cruel kind he had heard so often in the past few years. He subconsciously leaned closer to Blaine, wanting to have some kind of contact with him, just a hand on his shoulder or a brush of knees as they sat so close together. But Blaine must have been a little bit farther away than Kurt imagined because he didn't feel the contact.

 

“I'll just walk over behind the bushes to change to give you some privacy, Kurt,” Blaine said, placing the blue work shirt and jeans in Kurt's hands. “Call out if you need help,” he said and Kurt heard him walking through the brush.

 

It was actually harder than he thought it would be to get himself dressed. He got his clothes off, then wondered if there were any boxers, but decided that even if there were, he didn't want to wear them. He tried to get the pants right, struggling to find the front – then thought maybe they were inside out. He finally put on the shirt and tried to button it, then went back to getting the pants on. He finally managed, finding that there was no zipper, just two rows of buttons. This guy must have been in the real Navy because Kurt was pretty sure that was standard issue.

 

Having achieved the buttoning of the fourteen buttons on the pants, he tried to do the shirt, but it was so frustrating he made an angry growl.

 

“How's it coming, Kurt?” he heard Blaine ask from somewhere further away.

 

“I got the pants on, but I can't get the shirt buttoned. Can I get a little help?”

 

“Sure thing. It's a bit complicated, here...” Blaine walked over and unbuttoned the ones Kurt had tried. He pulled a bit to straighten the shirt and then began buttoning, his warm hands moving down Kurt's chest as he did up the fasteners. Kurt let out a small sound as he felt Blaine's fingers on his chest. Just that small sound from deep in his throat was enough for Blaine to feel a warmth coil in his abdomen, swirling around making him almost dizzy with sudden lust. He gritted his teeth and finished buttoning Kurt's shirt.

 

“There!” he announced, glad to have it over with...and yet, Kurt's skin was soft and warm and Blaine liked touching it. He turned away and walked back to the fire, stirring it up and adding a few more big pieces of driftwood, trying to get the feeling of touching Kurt out of his mind.

 

“It feels so good to have on clean clothes. I guess we can wash these tomorrow,” Kurt said, blushing a little as he thought of the feel of Blaine's hands on his shirt. “I think I better get to bed – is it nighttime?” Kurt asked. It felt cooler, but he wasn't sure. It was hard to determine the time with the sun covered with clouds.

 

“Here, let's sit for a while if you want to,” Blaine offered, reaching for Kurt's hand.

 

“Okay, what time do you think it is?”

 

“The sun is just setting, so not too late. But its been a hard day, we can go to sleep if you want to. I'm pretty tired.”

 

They sat together on the log, not touching but close enough that Blaine could feel the warmth of Kurt's leg so close to his.

 

“Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice just above a whisper. He's wanted to ask this for a long time but wasn't sure how to address it. He sighed and moved with restless energy before he said it again. Maybe Blaine had moved away?

 

“Blaine?” he asked again, just a bit louder.

 

Blaine was listening, but his attention was on Kurt's face, so beautiful bathed in the last of the sun's rays. It looked golden and perfect and Blaine's gut wrenched again for just a second as he felt an emotion he'd never felt before. Could he be falling for this teenager?

 

Then he remembered that Kurt had called his name twice.

 

“Sorry – I was off gathering wool. What did you need?” Blaine asked. He couldn't take his eyes from Kurt's face.

 

“I was wondering if...well, if it isn't any trouble, could you tell me what the sunset looks like?”

 

Blaine had mentioned the sunset yesterday but his description was quick and not very colorful.

 

“The sun is just now halfway down, and it is a bright reddish orange. Pink streaks are filling the rest of the western sky. The colors are reflected on the water, as if there were two suns colliding and bursting with red and orange and dark pink rays. Closer to the beach the water is a dark royal blue and calm. I can hardly see a ripple from here, although I can hear the water hitting the rocks. I think it is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...” he said, but the last remark wasn't about the sunset. Blaine closed his eyes, the amazing sight of the boy in front of him so taboo that he couldn't look any more.

 

“Is it still there?” Kurt asked, trying to recall if he had seen the sunset when he was with his dad on St John. He might have, but he didn't remember.

 

“No, it set. The sky is still pink and red, just a few streaks of orange left. It won't be long before its dark. I can see the moon is just a sliver tonight and I can see the stars starting to twinkle in the east. I think the coming of night here is much more spectacular than it is in Ohio,” Blaine said and Kurt smiled. He got up and made his way to the blanket over the trench and soft leaves, lying down. He could hear Blaine shifting on the log, then getting up to add some wood to the fire and come into the shelter.

 

“Goodnight, Kurt,” he said.

 

“Goodnight, Blaine. I'll see you in the morning.” He said it without thinking, but the thought that he might never actually see Blaine – or anything else – made him sigh with sadness and close his eyes. Blaine had forgotten to take off his bandages and Kurt didn't want to disturb him to do it now. They rolled over facing away from the other man and started to fall asleep.

 

As soon as Blaine's breath was slow and even, Kurt decided he must be asleep and he relaxed, letting the tears he'd been holding back flow down his cheeks. They wet the bandage and it was uncomfortable, so Kurt tried to untie the knot and take it off, but it proved impossible.

 

After a few minutes of this, Kurt felt fingers working the knot loose and his tears fell faster, his body trembling with the effort to stop crying, but it only served to make it worse. Suddenly there were warm arms holding him close and an even warmer body pressed behind him. It was a comfort and he lost his resolve to be aloof. He shuffled down under the blanket, turning towards the warmth and snuggled close to Blaine, sniffing as the tears slowed. He felt Blaine's fingertips brush the tears from his face and then there was humming – Brahm's lullaby. He couldn't help but smile a tiny bit to himself as he recalled his father humming that very song to him when he was a small boy.

 

“Do you want to tell me about what's troubling you, Kurt?” Blaine's voice came, so close he felt Blaine's warm breath as it tickled his ear.

 

“No....not tonight. Can you...is it okay if you just hold me for a while? I'm missing my dad,” Kurt asked in a whisper. He didn't want to ask, didn't want to need anyone – but the truth was that he did need someone and Blaine was so warm....Kurt nuzzled his nose into Blaine's neck and closed his eyes assured that Blaine would hold him all night. He was asleep in moments.


	5. Getting Acquainted

Waking up the next morning, Blaine was happy to find that Kurt was still in his arms. He knew they both needed the sleep although it didn't look as if Kurt had woken up at all during the night. Blaine extricated himself from the arms of the boy and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. 

  


Walking out of the shelter, Blaine was not surprised to find that the fire was cold. Well, he could start it again fairly quickly. Searching out something for their breakfast, Blaine found there were a few bananas and flakes of coconut left from last night. In one of the duffel bags was a bag of coffee grounds and Blaine contemplated how to make it into coffee. He got the metal can that had once had tomato juice in it and poured what might be a quarter cup of the grounds into the can, then added water from the plastic jug using the water from the spring that Kurt had found. They had boiled it last night just in case it wasn't safe – Blaine had insisted because he didn't have the means to deal with giardia or any other tropical parasites that may be I the water here. It was unlikely with no animals as far as he could tell, but better to err on the side of caution. 

  


It was eerily quiet on the island, there weren't even many birds here, and it was so peaceful. Away from the mad rush of the hospital emergency room, Blaine was finding it a relief to the stress that dogged him most days. He reflected upon how lucky they were to find fresh water on this island – it wasn't that easy to find water if there wasn't a natural spring and he had dreaded the work involved in making something to capture, distill, and store water. 

  


The doctor set the can of coffee makings on the fire and opened the pack of hardtack, placing it in another container and adding some coconut water. Maybe it would taste like hot cereal if he put it over the fire for a while. It wasn't very long before Kurt came out of the shelter, sniffing. He had a beautiful smile on his face and held a hand in front of him, obviously searching for something.

  


“I'm over here. How did you sleep last night?”

  


Kurt jumped and his head turned as if he were looking at Blaine.

  


“It was the longest stretch of sleep I've gotten since we landed here I think. Thank you for putting up with my clingy behavior. I'll try not to do that again,” he blushed. The truth of the matter was that Kurt had loved being held like that. He was still scared almost all the time but pretended he wasn't, trying to appear more mature in Blaine's eyes. Kurt wasn't sure why that was so important to him, but it was.

  


Blaine walked over to Kurt, touching his hand. Kurt took it and laced their fingers together.

  


“Kurt, I don't mind at all. I do understand how you must feel – worried about your dad, waking up to this nightmare and not even being able to see where you are? I admire your strength in the face of all of this. If I can do anything to help....if holding you close when you sleep makes you feel less vulnerable then I'm happy to do that for you any time you want. It doesn't have to mean anything other than an offer of friendship, okay?” Blaine said, wishing Kurt would say it was more. Kurt just stood, holding Blaine's hand and searching with his face to try and figure out exactly where Blaine was so he could at least appear to be speaking to him.

  


“Thanks, Blaine. I...I did like it. You're warm,” Kurt said, blushing deep, dark pink. He searched his mind for another topic, shy to tell Blaine of his real feelings. He cursed himself for being like this, but he was very afraid of rejection and Blaine was older and Kurt thought the doctor must think of him as a pesky kid.

  


“Is that coffee?” Kurt asked, wrinkling his nose in the cutest way as he tried to figure out where the odor was coming from.

  


“Well, its coffee grounds, but as for how it will taste when its done? That is yet to be determined. I'm trying to figure out what to strain the grounds out with,” Blaine admitted. “Do you like coffee?”

  


“Are you joking? I am addicted to it. Now, if you could find a nice cocoa bush and make it a mocha...” Kurt joked, grinning at Blaine. 

  


“Oh, I'll get right on that, sir. Your wish is my command,” Blaine laughed. “I think it smells done, shall we try it?”

  


Kurt felt around in the duffel bag and came out with a piece of the shirt that Blaine had made his eye bandage with. He held it over the can the peanut butter had come in and nodded at Blaine to pour. Blaine was a bit apprehensive, so he placed a steady hand on Kurt's and poured as he held the can with several layers of denim as a hot pad.

  


He found a ceramic cup that had been in the bag, too, and poured another cup.

  


“Do you take sugar, Blaine?”

  


“Well, I used to. Maybe I can learn to appreciate it black,” he said in a mournful voice.

  


“What do you think about putting some coconut milk in it?” Kurt asked.

  


“Ah...what?” Blaine had been zoning out, thinking about how they could get off this island. The boat might be seaworthy, but...

  


“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” Kurt asked, suddenly uncomfortable. He didn't know if Blaine was busy doing something else or if he was just plain bored with Kurt. After all, Kurt reasoned, he was just a skinny little high school kid and Blaine was a doctor. Why would he want to spend time with a pest like Kurt?

  


“Ah, no. I was just thinking. What did you say?” Blaine shook his head to clear it and turned his attention back to the boy.

  


“I thought maybe some coconut milk? What part of the coconut does that come from? I have used it in cooking, but never gave it much thought as to how it got in the can,” Kurt smiled.

  


 

  


“Oh, well, it's a man-made invention. You take the meat of the coconut and shred it, then put it in the blender with some water and let it blend for a long time. Eventually it makes this foamy white stuff and you strain out the bits of coconut meat. Add sugar. Its much better fresh than from a can. However, I'm not sure if we can do that here....I don't know if we can pound the meat hard enough to make it give up the milk,” Blaine said. He heard a gasp from Kurt and looked up to see him bright red, his hand covering his mouth and the other one trying to hide his crotch? Oh....Blaine realized what he had just said and burst out laughing.

  


“Oh, my stars, Kurt! I didn't mean it like that! Sheesh!”

  


Kurt tried to stop himself from giggling, but to no avail. He chuckled and then just let go with a laugh until Blaine pushed him over into the sand and straddled him, holding his wrists above his head.

  


“I'm not going to let you go until you say that you know I didn't mean that. I really was talking about making coconut milk, not....well, not anything else. Okay?” Blaine said, then realized that Kurt was struggling to get away and looked frantic. Gazing down, he saw why. His sailor trousers were not doing much to hide the tent in them and Kurt was red with embarrassment. Blaine let him go, getting off of the boy before Kurt could realize that Blaine was now in the same condition. He stood up, taking hold of Kurt's hand to help him up, too.

  


“Let's drink our coffee and then go down to the beach to try our hand at fishing maybe?” he said, changing the subject quickly as he tried to mask the squeak in his voice.

  


Kurt felt his way over to the log they had been using for a seat and sat down with his coffee mug.

  


“Lucky for me, I like it black,” he said in a well-modulated voice. His face was a mask of no emotions and his voice was under control, but Blaine could see a slight tremble of his hand as he tried to put the hot coffee cup to his lips. Seeing Kurt like this made him wonder how many times the boy had been forced to mask his emotions over the years – he seemed very adept at it. Blaine sighed. He hoped that Kurt's experience with high school was – ah, less traumatic than his own.

  


“I think I might try putting some of the coconut water in this,” Blaine said, not wanting to upset Kurt any more than he already had and changing the subject.

  


“Would you like some real sugar?” Kurt asked, a sly smile on his beautiful lips.

  


“Like the poets say, ' _If wishes were horses then beggars would ride_ ',” Blaine said.

  


Kurt laughed at that. 

  


“' _If turnips were watches, I'd wear one by my side_ ',” Kurt finished the little nursery rhyme and grinned. “No, seriously, there was a package of sugar in that last duffel bag. I opened it when you were down at the beach yesterday. There seemed to be quite a lot of food in that one: most of it canned, but there was some sugar, salt, and a few things in glass jars in there. No chocolate, though. Don't survival packs always have chocolate?”

  


“I think that is in the realm of fiction writers, my dear boy,” Blaine laughed. 

  


“Well, the sugar is in the bag if you want some,” Kurt offered, turning to reach for the place he'd left the bag but not finding it. A look of frustration crossed his face.

  


“Sorry, Kurt, I moved it last night. It's over here,” Blaine said, getting up to get it. He returned with a glass container and unscrewed the lid, licking his finger to touch it to the substance in the jar and putting it to his tongue.

  


“Yeppers, its sugar all right. Hey, this is turning out to be paradise, right?” 

  


“Yeah, sure,” Kurt's smile faded on his face.

  


“Hey, Kurt, cheer up. Drink your cup of joe and we'll start to explore. How does that sound for a plan?” Blaine asked.

  


“Sure, my head doesn't hurt as much today,” Kurt said. He didn't really want to go, but if the alternative was being left alone in the camp he'd rather go with Blaine.

  


“Let me see your head wound first, if that's okay.”

  


Kurt reached out a hand and found Blaine's. Blaine moved closer and had Kurt lie down with his head in his lap and took off the bandage from yesterday. It didn't look much different, it was still infected but there were no red lines or any other dangerous symptoms. He saw a few more slivers of the rotten wood and carefully removed them.

  


“I think I'll just wash it out and apply some more antibiotic cream then re-bandage it. We're going to have to keep a close eye on it I think. Is it painful?”

  


“Not as much as it was,” Kurt replied, but he winced when Blaine smoothed the cream over it.

  


 

  


 

* * *

  


 

  


“Hey, wait for me, Speedy. You don't want to fall on these sharp rocks, Kurt,” Blaine called out to the boy. Kurt was about twenty feet in front of him and although he had the bamboo stick he'd been using as a cane, Blaine still worried he might fall. 

  


  


“Yes, mother,” Kurt sassed, not slowing down for a moment. He could smell the ocean and wanted to get his hot feet wet in the cool surf. After days of rain it was blistering hot today and a walk in knee-high water would feel just right. The frustration building up inside himself was making Kurt short tempered. He wanted to get closer to Blaine, but he felt he was just a kid and Blaine wouldn't want his affections. This had all happened before – Kurt got a crush on a great guy but it was never right. Either the guy was straight or already taken or just wasn't interested. It was the story of his life and Kurt saw no reason for his luck to change now. Plus, he was blind and couldn't even masturbate because he had no idea when Blaine was watching. Tears came to his eyes, but he would be damned if he let even one roll down his cheek. He was stronger than that. He was.

  


Blaine jogged to catch up, reaching Kurt just as he put a foot in the water. Blaine joined him, relishing the cool feel of the shallow waves washing over his hot skin. They walked in up to their waists and Kurt started to fall when an unexpected wave hit him. Blaine was close enough to reach out and steady the boy who grasped his arm in panic. Blaine's arms went around him on instinct and Kurt leaned heavily on the curly haired doctor.

  


“Ouffff!” Kurt said, his wind knocked out of him for an instant.

  


“Hey, are you alright?” Blaine asked, not letting go until Kurt had righted himself and appeared to be steady. Not being a swimmer, Blaine was a little nervous getting too close to the ocean.

  


“Yeah, that wave just startled me. I'm fine,” he assured Blaine and reluctantly let go of the man's strong biceps. 

  


They walked down the beach, Blaine searching for anything edible and Kurt just playing with the waves and trying to predict where the next one would splash. He walked a little more into the water, about up to mid-calf, and leaned over to shove some water up towards Blaine and succeeding in splashing him in the face. He laughed as he heard Blaine sputtering in shock. 

  


“Oh, the war is on, Hummel,” he said, plotting revenge. They chased each other back and forth on the beach, Blaine slowing down and making more noise than was strictly necessary to even the odds. He got splashed several more times before Kurt fell in the waves and let out a whoop of surprise as he landed on a sharp shell.

  


“You okay?” Blaine asked, ready in case this was a rouse to lure him closer. 

  


“Time out”, Kurt said, sitting up and shaking the water from his hair. Blaine walked closer and gave him a hand up, carefully leading him past the sharp rocks on this part of the beach and back to the safer place.

  


“There. Can't have you cutting your foot or your shapely ass - on those rocks. I'm getting tired. Maybe I can find more mussels to eat for lunch?”

  


“Oh, that sounds good. I'm so hungry. What can I do to help?” Kurt asked, a little disconcerted by the man's comment about his backside. He decided to ignore it.

  


“I brought the fishing stuff, let me get that and we can walk over to a large rock that sticks out into the ocean a ways. Sound good?” 

  


“Let's get to it. Lead the way,” Kurt agreed. 

  


 

  


They walked across the rocks where the ocean spray had made the path slick. Blaine was a bit ahead, Kurt holding his arm to follow. Not being able to see the peril in front of him, Kurt stepped in a puddle of water and moss and his feet slipped out from under him. It might have ended in disaster, but Blaine felt him lose hold and turned just in time to grasp his shirt. He hauled the boy up the few inches he had fallen, gasping for air as he struggled to regain his footing. It had scared Blaine for a moment – probably more than it had Kurt because Blaine could see the sheer drop to jagged rocks if he'd fallen off this rock shelf. He held Kurt in his arms very tightly for a moment before he realized what he was doing and let go. Well, he would keep a tight hold on Kurt's arm until they had navigated the dangerous part of the path.

  


“Thanks, Blaine,” Kurt said when they got to the fishing spot.

  


“For what?” 

  


“I don't know how bad it was – how far the drop was – but you've been trembling ever since, so I'm thinking it must have been a long way down. Right?” Kurt asked.

  


“Yeah, it was,” Blaine said in a quiet voice, not quite over the fear.

  


Kurt felt his way to Blaine, putting his arms around the doctor's neck and kissing his cheek.

  


“Oh, Kurt...it wasn't anything that you wouldn't have done for me,” Blaine said, trying not to let the kiss affect him. This was getting hard, Kurt was more beautiful every day.

  


The two sat on the rock and fished for a few hours without a lot of luck. They did manage to catch a few small fish, but neither of them were born fishermen. The sun was getting hotter as it climbed into the noon sky and Blaine suggested they return to the shade of the trees and cook the fish.

  


Back at the camp, Blaine gutted the fish before wrapping them in banana leaves and placing them in the hot ashes of the fire.

  


“That took a while last time, so maybe we can walk a ways into the trees and look for something else to eat – more coconuts or something?” Blaine suggested and was happy when Kurt agreed to accompany him on the journey. 

  


It was much cooler under the trees, but walking was more treacherous for Kurt because he couldn't see the path. He ended up holding tightly to Blaine's arm while they walked and it felt safer that way. Kurt was grateful for Blaine's continued patience with him as he learned to navigate without his sight. He found himself clinging closer and closer to Blaine's side, the footing being rough through this part of the jungle. 

  


“Hey, Blaine? Can we stop and rest for a few minutes?” Kurt asked, his head starting to hurt again. 

  


“Of course, here...let me help you,” Blaine offered as he quickly found a log to sit on. They sat down and Blaine took his water bottle off and handed it to Kurt first. Kurt took a drink and handed it back, so grateful for the cooling refreshment. He smiled at where he thought Blaine was sitting.

  


“We've been here for two days. Don't you think they would be looking for us yet?” Kurt asked, clearly upset at the prospect of spending more time here.

  


“I'm sure they're looking. I wrote 'HELP' on the beach by drawing the letters with a stick and then putting dark pieces of rocks and wood on the lines so a plane could see it. I'm not sure what else to do. I don't want to use the flares unless we hear the motor of a plane or helicopter or if we see a boat. I think they're out looking for us, Kurt, and we're going to be found,” he said to try and comfort the boy. 

  


Kurt blinked back the emotion that he was afraid was showing on his face and Blaine put a hand on his back. For once Kurt didn't flinch and Blaine put his arm around Kurt very gently, bringing him close. Kurt's arms wrapped around the older man's waist as if they had minds of their own and Kurt laid his head on Blaine's shoulder. The man placed a kiss in Kurt's hair automatically and Kurt smiled a little to himself.

  


“Thank you for taking care of me, Blaine,” he whispered and buried his face in Blaine's shirt, pressing his cheek to the man's chest. Kurt could hear the deep thump thump thump of Blaine's heart and he felt better. At least he wasn't alone.

  


They stayed that way for a while, Blaine thinking about how much he was growing to like Kurt. Once they got past Kurt's initial snapping and grouchy behavior, the boy was thoughtful and intelligent, a joy to have around. Blaine could see himself being friends with Kurt back home. He might be older by almost nine years, but that would cease to matter after a while. Blaine was pretty sure of that. He wondered how Kurt felt about him, considering the reaction he'd gotten from the boy the first day. 

  


Kurt snuggled closer, the feeling of being safe in this man's arms was good. He liked Blaine, but still couldn't imagine the doctor would be interested in a child like himself. He was sixteen, almost seventeen, but Blaine had had so many more life experiences it was amazing they had anything in common at all. Still, as long as they were stranded on this island it was nice to think about Blaine being close to him.

  


“Feel better?” Blaine asked after about fifteen minutes.

  


“Yeah, maybe I just needed a drink. Okay, let's get back to looking for food,” Kurt said quickly to hide the emotional response that sprung to his lips. Instead, he smiled a little. Really, he would have liked to just sit next to Blaine all day, but he worried that wouldn't be appropriate. He stood up and took a step only to trip and end up back in Blaine's lap, struggling for balance. Blaine's arms were around him and helped to get him steady once more. Sitting almost on top of Blaine, Kurt took a deep breath and tried to stand, but he'd twisted his ankle. 

  


“I don't know if I can stand up, Blaine. Can you help me sit back on the log for a moment?” 

  


“Sure, here...are you okay like that? I need to look at that ankle,” Blaine said, making sure Kurt was comfortable before removing his shoe and sock to inspect the ankle. It was obviously bruised and beginning to swell. Kurt had twisted it much harder than Blaine had originally thought but still - it appeared to be just a sprain with no bones broken. He ran his hand over the sore place, trying to assess if there was any further damage.

  


Blaine's warm hands felt good against Kurt's skin and he tried, too late, to swallow the low moan that escaped from his throat. He didn't know if Blaine had heard it or not, since he couldn't see his reaction, but he thought the doctor had hesitated for a brief moment before continuing his examination. Gently rubbing the calf down to the ball of Kurt's foot to try and ease the pain, Blaine closed his own eyes briefly and gave in to his thoughts of what it might be like to hold Kurt in a more romantic way instead of the simple caring touches he'd been able to give him. Blaine swallowed hard and set Kurt's foot down on the ground carefully.

  


“I'm going to run back and get an ace bandage out of the first aid kit. Are you going to be alright here alone?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded. Neither of them had seen any kind of animal or anything else threatening in the jungle or on the beach yet. Blaine handed Kurt his bamboo stick and left, jogging down to the camp and coming back with an ace elastic bandage. Hopefully with this support, Kurt would be able to walk short distances.

  


 

  


  


They walked slowly back through the trees, Blaine slowing his steps to make it the right speed for Kurt to hobble. He was holding Kurt up, trying his best to keep the boy from stepping down hard on the foot and possibly damaging it more. They finally made it and Blaine settled Kurt on the log, his sore foot propped on the folded blanket on the pile of driftwood they were currently using for fuel. 

  


He gave Kurt an aspirin and counted the remaining pills in the bottle. It had apparently been a full bottle, and they had only used a few. 

  


Kurt was silent through the light lunch Blaine prepared: the fish was baked to perfection and he served it along with his attempt to make fried bananas. The bananas weren't too bad when washed down with the weak coffee and both castaways felt as if they'd had a feast. 

  


The afternoon sun had gotten so hot they decided to just crawl into the shelter and take a nap. There was a slight breeze which made it just bearable as the two laid down on the blanket. Kurt was asleep in minutes, but Blaine tossed and turned for a while. He knew he should be doing more to help rescue them, but he had no idea what he could do. At least Kurt seemed to be getting better, in spite of the accident with his ankle. Blaine wondered for a moment if Kurt was just clumsy and accident-prone, but the thought was fleeting as he realized it was because of the blindness. People were used to depending on sight and to have it suddenly taken away would be devastating. Blaine didn't think he would have been able to accept it and carry on with his life if the same thing had happened to him. Kurt was an extraordinary, brave young man and Blaine had renewed respect for him.

  


Blaine turned over to look at the young man. He was tall – just as tall as Blaine and he hadn't reached his full height yet. His skin was like ivory, the warmth showing through the paleness like the sun through a seashell. And his hair – a beautiful shade of reddish brown chestnut – was thick and glossy. Blaine couldn't resist running his fingers through the thick strands. Kurt smiled in his sleep and made a soft hum, as if he liked the attention. Blaine thought about his face, so innocent in sleep. It was almost the same when he was awake, but when Kurt was awake his face had an added sort of haunted look as if he'd lived a hard life and didn't expect it to get any better. That made Blaine so sad and he wondered if it was only Kurt's worry about his father's health or if he had hidden bad experiences, too. Blaine didn't want to pry into those – he had enough of his own from his family's rejection of his sexuality to being bullied in school to the trouble at New York Hospital that had brought him here to the Caribbean. He sighed and closed his eyes for a while, wishing he could just sleep and stop his mind from churning. 

  


He was on the edge of sleep when he heard Kurt start to fuss, then turn in the blankets. He sounded like a small wounded animal and Blaine thought at first that it was the pain from his ankle. Kurt threw his arms up as if startled, then tossed his head. Whatever it was, Blaine didn't like to see him so stressed. He gently put his arms around Kurt, gathering him close and whispered in his ear, “Its okay, sweetheart, I'm here. I'll keep you safe, Kurt. I'll stay right here with you.”

  


Kurt settled down and Blaine was going to let go, but Kurt was holding him tightly and it didn't seem as if he were going to let go soon. Blaine did the only thing he could and relaxed into the embrace, finally finding comfort with Kurt's arms locked around him and his nose snuggled into his neck. Blaine's affection for the boy was growing and he smiled to himself before falling sound asleep.

  


 

  


Kurt woke first, feeling the cool breeze wafting over his skin. There was a warm presence and Kurt turned his head before he remembered he wouldn't be able to see who it was. He sniffed and realized it was Blaine, whose arms were holding him close and his head nestled on his shoulder. Then the throbbing in his ankle reminded him of the morning's activities and he tried to roll the ankle to see how bad it was. Bad move. The splinters of pain shot up his leg, spreading bright pain up into his thigh. He tried not to cry out – Blaine was still asleep – but it wasn't anything he could help as he keened in pain, hissing as he tried to move his leg away from where it had been resting. 

  


Blaine was wide awake and ready to jump at the first wail. Having trained as a doctor, he was used to being expected to go from sound asleep to wide awake at the drop of a hat.

  


“Kurt, what's wrong? Does your ankle hurt?”

  


“It hurts all the way up to my hipbone,” Kurt said, looking on the edge of panic. Blaine put a restraining hand on Kurt's hip and sat up, looking at the ankle.

  


“You were lying on it, I expect it feels like a million pins sticking it all at once, right?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded. “Well, you were lying so the bandage got twisted too tight and it didn't get enough oxygen to the muscles. It should be okay soon, but I can sit with you until it feels better, okay?”

  


“Thanks, Blaine,” Kurt said in a soft voice. Oh, yes....Blaine could sit with him any time. Kurt was trying to be mature here and not just fall in love with the first man to ever show him any attention. Oh, that was a real ego-boost. He had to be marooned on an island in the Caribbean to get noticed. And now that he finally was, he couldn't even see the guy. Life sucked sometimes. Then another thought came drifting into his head: was Blaine just being kind because he was a doctor and that was his job or did he like Kurt? It wasn't as if there were any other people here to interact with. That must be it – Kurt was the only choice so Dr. Blaine was paying attention to Kurt for companionship. Kurt sighed, determined not to make a fool of himself over what was just inevitable. 

  


“Kurt, I think you had better rest here for a little while. I'm going down to the beach to get something for us to eat for supper. Will you be okay?” Blaine asked.

  


“Sure. I think I'll go back to sleep for a while. My ankle is sore,” Kurt said, pulling the blanket smooth so he could lie on it.

  


After giving Kurt another dose of aspirin, Blaine walked once more to the beach in search of edible things. He pulled some mussels from the lower part of the rocks in the tide pools, then threw a fishing line out from a rock he'd climbed onto. It was near a deep hole he thought from the dark color of the water. Maybe a large fish would live in deeper water. He made sure he was anchored on a piece of the rock for him to use as leverage and then threw the weighted fishing line into the sea.

  


It was only a few minutes when there was a tug on the line. Blaine snapped his wrist quickly to set the hook. It took a good twenty minutes to get the fish landed, Blaine was so scared of losing it. He flipped it back onto the beach behind himself, running over and grabbing it by the tail and whacking it soundly on the rock. It must weigh at least eight or ten pounds, although Blaine had no idea what kind of fish it was. 

  


He gutted the fish, using a piece of the slimy guts as bait to try again. He waited about half an hour and all he could get was a turtle that he didn't want to figure out how to kill, much less eat. So he rolled the fishing line up around the stick and put it in the bag he was carrying. He picked up a few clams on the way back, having gone clamming with a cousin when he was a kid, he knew how to find them. 

  


As he walked back, Blaine saw another banana tree and picked four of those. He heard Kurt long before he walked into the circle of the camp site – Kurt was singing, his high voice just beautiful. It took Blaine a minute to recognize the song as “Blackbird” by the Beatles – but Kurt was singing it as a ballad, slow and smooth as fine whisky. He sat down a little ways away so Kurt would finish it before he realized Blaine had come back. 

  


When the song was done, Blaine sat for a while longer, just watching Kurt. He was so beautiful. Blaine was experiencing more feelings around Kurt and chastised himself. Kurt was only sixteen and would probably have no interest in a man nine years older than himself. Blaine sighed, he really liked Kurt. In a different world, maybe....but for now, he would have to be careful. Kurt seemed to be fragile, worried about his father and the shock of finding himself blind and marooned on an island. It would be too much to expect from anyone. 

  


 

  


Kurt didn't like being by himself. He was afraid, although he didn't want Blaine to know that. Not being able to see was almost more than he could cope with. He kept hearing noises that he couldn't identify, ones that he was afraid of. He only felt safe at night when Blaine allowed him to cuddle close. Kurt pretended it was to keep warm, but the truth was that he wanted Blaine's arms around him. He liked being around Blaine more all the time and while he was sitting in the camp, waiting for Blaine to return, he wondered what he looked like. He already knew that he had curly hair that was soft and silky, and he knew Blaine had strong biceps and his body was well muscled but in the way of a runner or a dancer – not bulging weightlifter type muscles. Kurt wanted to know what his face looked like. 

  


He heard the soft footsteps coming towards him, and his heart started pumping faster. Blaine called out and Kurt's body relaxed. 

  


“Hi, Blaine,” Kurt greeted him, holding out his hand without thinking. Blaine stepped near and touched Kurt's hand, slipping their fingers together as if they belonged there. A smile crossed Kurt's face and Blaine saw it, smiling himself. 

  


“How did you do this afternoon?” asked Kurt.

  


“I got a really big fish, one smaller fish I hooked first, and a few clams. I think the big fish weighs about eight pounds, so it might last a while,” Blaine said so brightly that Kurt could imagine his face lit up with happiness. Except that he didn't know what Blaine looked like. The doctor said he was at the hospital the day Kurt was there with his dad, but he'd been trying for several days to recall each face he saw that day and he couldn't remember this one.

  


Blaine walked over to the fire that Kurt had kept going all day and wrapped the fish in banana leaves, pushing it under the coals. 

  


“Oh, I smell bananas. Did you bring some?” Kurt inquired. 

  


“Sure. Let's sit down over here and we can both have some,” Blaine said, guiding Kurt to sit beside him. They ate the bananas and then just sat for a while, listening to the birds and feeling the cool island breeze. They were comfortable together today, Kurt having lost the deep resentment that he felt at being struck blind after being hit during the storm. The only thing that was still gnawing at his insides was his fear for his father, and that wasn't going away soon. 

  


Blaine was sitting very close to Kurt, once again finding himself drawn towards the boy. Kurt could feel the warmth of Blaine's skin so close and he dared to day dream for a few moments – what if Blaine liked him? Not just as a companion or someone requiring care because of an infirmity, but was actually attracted to him. 

  


“Blaine?”

  


“Yeah?”

  


“What do you look like?” Kurt asked in a very soft voice, not sure if he should even be asking such a thing. Blaine didn't say anything for a moment and Kurt rushed to apologize for being inappropriate.

  


“Sorry, I don't know where that came from. Just forget I said anything,” Kurt babbled, trying to take it back.

  


“No, wait, Kurt,” Blaine said, placing his hand on Kurt's forearm to get his attention. “Here, let me show you. Just relax your hand for a moment...” he said, then took Kurt's hand and placed his fingers on his face. Kurt froze, this seemed too personal – but he was fascinated by the feel of Blaine's face and he decided to experience it. He started at the hairline, feeling the edge of his silky curls, then down the forehead to his eyebrows. Kurt used both hands and stroked gently across the brows, smiling.

  


“They feel ...triangular almost? What color is your hair?” Kurt asked.

  


“Well, it's black. And yes, my eyebrows are sort of triangular in shape. I've been teased about it from the time I was little. My dad is Irish and my mother is from the Philippines: Spanish, Chinese, Malaysian. I guess I'm kind of a mongrel,” Blaine laughed. 

  


“If you think about it, all of us are really mongrels, Blaine. I bet with that amazing combination you are beautiful,” Kurt whispered. He went on with his exploration, trying to construct Blaine's face in his mind. “What color is your skin?”

  


“It's darker than yours,” Blaine said.

  


“Blaine, _alabaster_ is darker than my skin. I need more detail,” Kurt asked, a small smirk on his face. He thought they had talked about this when they had first landed, but he wanted to hear it again. Blaine thought it was adorable.

  


“Okay, it's sort of golden – maybe you'd call it olive complexion, but somewhat lighter. I'm sort of short, only five foot eight,” Blaine told him. “I guess you know what my hair is like – unruly curls. I used to gel them down when I was your age because I thought they were undignified.”

  


Kurt laughed at that. He liked the feel of Blaine's hair.

  


“What color are your eyes?” he asked.

  


“My mother told me they are toffee brown with golden highlights and bits of mossy green when I laugh, but she's my mother so you know she would wax poetic at something concerning her son. Actually, it says 'hazel' on my drivers license.”

  


Kurt grinned. He could picture those eyes. He moved his fingers, brushing over Blaine's features. He felt Blaine's eyes close and felt very gently only to find Blaine had wide eyes with long, thick eyelashes and a straight nose that was a bit more pug than his own ski slope. Next he felt over the high cheekbones and the strong chin. He tenderly brushed a finger over Blaine's lips and felt him tremble.

  


“I'm....I'm sorry, Blaine. That was too much...I'm sorry,” Kurt backed up, blushing in shame as he thought the man might be upset with him.

  


“Kurt, its fine. I told you that you could touch my face and it didn't bother me. My lips are just sensitive. You didn't do anything wrong,” Blaine said in a calm, soft voice. He took Kurt's hand and returned it to his face. Kurt gave him a small, embarrassed smile and went on feeling the contours of his face. 

  


Kurt realized that Blaine wasn't wearing a shirt and tried to look in the direction of Blaine's face, coming close but not exact, and asked, “Can I...can I feel more of you?”

  


“Yes.”

  


Blaine didn't mind, he'd been asked harder questions of his patients in the children's ward. He thought suddenly of some of his favorite kids, especially Brooke. She had been the one that he had loved the most and now she was just a bright memory, a spirit that he believed stayed with him. He missed the thin little slip of a girl. He shook his head for a second, coming back to the present. 

  


Kurt took him at his word and was touching his neck. It tickled and he took in a breath, scrunching his head down to keep Kurt from making him giggle like a little girl. Kurt felt down his arm, his hand spanning the bicep. “Oh, you work out?” he asked.

  


“I...ah...well, I box,” Blaine said.

  


“You box?” Kurt asked, trying to fit this new information with the things he already knew about Blaine. It didn't exactly fit – a compassionate person like a doctor doing something that seemed so violent. “Why?”

  


“I was bullied when I was a kid – chased out of my junior high school when I came out. I was determined never to have to run again, so my brother took me to a guy he knew that trained 

  


amateur boxers. He worked with me and I learned to defend myself. Later I learned to use words instead of my fists, but I like the feeling of working out as a boxer, so I've kept it up when I have the time. I'm sure you know that as a doctor I didn't have a lot of extra time.”

  


“No, I guess not. Have you always worked here in the Virgin Islands?” Kurt asked.

  


“No. I went to medical school in New York and worked at NY Metro for a few years. When I left there, my friend, Wes, asked me to come here to visit him for a while. They were short of trauma doctors at the hospital in Charlotte Amalie, so I was helping out. I don't really know where I want to live. I'm going to take a year off and rest,” Blaine said. Kurt could hear in his voice that he probably had more to say, but didn't want to say it to Kurt. 

  


Blaine sighed and Kurt reached forward, touching his collarbone with just the tips of his fingers. The skin was warm, very warm, which could mean that he was sitting in the sun or that he was sick...or Kurt was affecting him. Kurt smiled to himself, hoping Blaine didn't notice. He moved his fingers down the man's chest, feeling the definition of his chest and farther to the developed muscles of his abdomen. By this time, Blaine was almost trembling, Kurt's touch burning into his skin. He took Kurt's hand and kissed his knuckles, setting it back in Kurt's lap so he could get up. His dick was so hard it was painful and he had no idea on Earth what he could do about it right now. He would have to walk into the jungle a ways before he could take care of it. 

  


Standing under a palm tree, Blaine took his cock in hand and gave it a long, slow stroke to relieve the built-up tension. It felt so good. He closed his eyes to think of something to bring him to where he needed to be right now – he couldn't take too long, Kurt would be suspicious. The image that came to Blaine's mind was of Kurt – long, tall, pale, and perfect to a fault. Blaine imagined pushing into Kurt's tight virginal hole, giving him everything he had, trusting his body to bring Kurt these same pleasures.

  


His hand slipped a bit in this confined space. He needed to hurry and so finally gave in, closing his eyes and imagining it was Kurt's hand holding him in just this way, the slow stroked morphing into faster, shorter strokes, his hips thrusting forward towards his goal, Kurt's slick mouth around his cock, then imagining what it would be like to finally thrust unbound into the boy's body....the sensation was building and the pressure fierce before he was able to get release. He was holding his mouth firmly shut, teeth gritted together, when he realized he was saying Kurt's name. He finally stopped coming after what seemed like ages, then fell to his knees and cried bitter tears at what he'd done with his life. He blinked, wondering if he could start over, make less mistakes. He pulled his trousers up and cleaned his hand with a leaf, then pushed sand over the small pool of semen that lay on the ground. Sitting in the shade of the tree, he pulled his feet close to his body and lay his head on his arms that were propped on his knees. He was so screwed.

  
  


Blaine thought he was far enough away, but Kurt heard something and his face blushed red. Surely Blaine wasn't....taking care of himself? In the woods? Was Kurt so unappealing, so young or just not right in some way, that Blaine would rather masturbate than be near him? Tears ran down his face, but he pushed them away in aggravation. He was stronger than this. Hadn't he lived through all the bullies of McKinley High could dish out? Kurt straightened his spine and took a deep breath. Like his dad always told him, don't let them see you cry. 

  


 

  


“Hey, it smells like the fish is done. Are you hungry?” Blaine asked when he eventually returned to the camp.

  


“Starving,” Kurt said, fake smile in place. The fish and clams did smell heavenly.

  


Blaine brushed aside the coals and took out the fish, unwrapping it and putting servings on two tin plates they had found in the bags. He added a few of the ripe sea grapes and brought them over to sit beside Kurt once again, handing him his plate.

  


Kurt was still self-conscious about how he ate, but there wasn't much he could do about it except eat slower and move more carefully. He took the first bite and smiled.

  


“Oh, that's excellent, Blaine. I don't know what kind of fish it is, but it tastes wonderful,” Kurt complemented.

  


“Thanks, Kurt. I like the clams, too. I guess I did more today than I thought I did. I'm ready for an early night. What about you?”

  


“I'm really tired. Do I need to do anything else? Help with getting the bed ready?” Kurt asked, feeling useless.

  


“Its all ready to go, I'll just scrub these plates off with some sand and we can bank the fire,” Blaine said and the two of them went to bed.


	6. Lost Opportunities

It had been three weeks since Blaine and Kurt had been thrown onto the tiny atoll in the vast Caribbean Sea. Kurt's head didn't hurt very much any more, but he was still unable to see anything. Not even sunlight. He kept the bandage over his eyes on the hottest days, the sun beating down on the sand made his headache come back. 

They had found water and food, but not once had either of them heard the motor of a plane, helicopter, ship, or anything. Kurt was getting worried and his temper was on edge because he knew deep down that it was not Blaine's fault, but he needed to direct his anger at someone and Blaine was the only one here.

“What's for dinner?” Kurt asked, although he already knew the answer.

“I got a bunch of clams and was able to catch a fish, there are coconuts and sea grapes and...oh, I found some pineapples again!” Blaine said, happy he had provided food once again. He smiled over at Kurt for a moment, but lost the smile when he remembered that Kurt couldn't see it. Kurt's face was in a deep frown once again and he was in a dark mood. The past few days had found Kurt grumpy, sullen, or just depressed and Blaine was beginning to worry about him.

“Okay. I think I'll go to sleep for a while. Can you wake me up when its time to eat? Unless you can think of something for me to help with?” Kurt said, cutting his words sharply as if this was all Blaine's fault. When Kurt didn't get an answer, he sighed and turned to stir the fire. Blaine's concern about Kurt was deepening day by day, but he wasn't sure what to do about it. Kurt was obviously troubled by something he wasn't telling Blaine about, no matter how often the doctor asked. Some days Kurt would practically flirt with Blaine – and Blaine was torn about how to reciprocate. If Kurt had been older it would never have been a problem. Blaine really liked Kurt and would love to have a more personal, romantic relationship but Kurt was sixteen and that scared him.

Kurt would have stomped off, but he was walking barefoot on sand, which made stomping practically impossible. Sitting down near the blanket, he felt around the ground for the soft padding that Blaine had placed under the blanket. He lay down on this and pulled the lighter blanket over himself and closed his eyes. He was stiff and uncomfortable and not very sleepy, but sitting out there knowing he was on display – and not knowing if Blaine was watching him or not – was just too much today.

 

Blaine was sitting near the shelter and could hear Kurt sighing and tossing in the blanket. He honestly didn't know what to do. Asking Kurt what was wrong most often resulted in a growl and then silence. Blaine went about cooking the meal, setting the cleaned fish in some leaves and wrapping them to set near the coals to cook. It would take about an hour and by that time the fire would be down to a few coals, so he decided to take a nap.

Climbing onto the pallet he'd made, he lay down next to Kurt. It was only a few minutes before sleep practically took him, but just as he was losing consciousness, he felt Kurt roll towards him. Kurt's arm slipped around his waist as it did most nights and once more Blaine was unsure if Kurt was actually awake or asleep or somewhere in between.

It didn't matter too much, Blaine liked it when they snuggled close to each other at night. Even though he was the elder, the adult on the island, he was a little apprehensive when it came to sleeping in a deserted place like this. He probably garnered as much reassurance from the closeness as Kurt did. After a month with no contact, he began to wonder if they would ever be found. At least they had food, water, shelter, and each other. Things could be worse. He could be stuck here with a girl. Blaine smiled to himself at that – he had only just admitted to himself that he liked Kurt a lot more than he should, but he didn't know what to do about it. He didn't want to cause the boy any more anxiety. 

Rolling over, Kurt put his other arm on Blaine and scooted closer. He was a real cuddler and Blaine couldn't complain about that. Most of the time it was too dark to see Kurt's face, but it was noon and Blaine took advantage of that and really looked at Kurt. He was strikingly beautiful. With clear, ivory skin and a beautiful rosy blush Kurt's complexion was something that would make a person stop and stare. Coupled with his chestnut hair and blue/gray/green eyes with those sparkles of gold like sunshine on the ocean, Kurt was a dream to behold. Add his witty, intelligent, kind personality and there was the perfect boyfriend. Blaine had been having these thoughts since he saw Kurt the first time in the hospital on the day he held him close until the panic attack had subsided. After a month of being alone with Kurt, Blaine was thinking more and more of asking the boy if he was at all attracted to him.

 

Moving back a little to get some air, Blaine was about a foot away from Kurt when he saw the boy was waking up. Kurt stretched his arms and arched his back, bringing thoughts and visions to Blaine that made his own anatomy do a bit of waking up on its own. He didn't say anything, not wanting to startle Kurt and was rewarded by seeing him rub his hand across the front of his jeans. The bulge there was growing a bit and Kurt said something to himself about how he wondered if he could stop dreaming about Blaine and waking up so hard, making the older man blush crimson red. Blaine made a decision to keep as quiet as possible so Kurt didn't know he was there – he didn't want to embarrass the kid. 

Kurt felt around for the water bottle he always left beside him during naps. Finding it, he drank about half the bottle and wiped his mouth. Then he poured a little of the water in his hand and splashed it on his face, sighing dramatically and returning to the pallet of blankets and laid back down, closing his eyes. It was only a few moments before he was back asleep.

Blaine got up, walked over to the fire to make sure the fish wasn't burning and pulled it farther from the coals. He got a drink of his own and decided to go back to bed. Staying away from Kurt was starting to be too hard. 

Blaine found himself watching Kurt, following him, brushing close enough to touch him all day now. Was it just that they were the only two there, or was it more than that? Blaine didn't know, but he did remember that he'd found Kurt attractive that first meeting. He had known then it was inappropriate for him to pursue Kurt – but now? That was the question that occupied his mind most days now. He sighed and sat down in the shelter.

Kurt seemed disturbed in his sleep, tossing back and forth as he did often. Usually Blaine could rest a warm hand on his shoulder or back and Kurt would settle back to restful sleep, but that wasn't working today. Blaine scooted closer and put his arm back around the boy. Even this gesture didn't work and Kurt was getting more and more agitated as time went by.

“Hey, Kurt. Are you okay?” he whispered, wanting to comfort him but not overstep.

Kurt's back was to Blaine and the young doctor could feel his arm getting damp where Kurt's head was leaning on it. The boy was trembling, as if he were holding back something.

“Kurt?” he asked again and Kurt turned towards him, obviously crying now. “Hey, now...what's brought this on?”

“I'm just feeling....I guess a little sad. Don't worry, Blaine, it'll pass. I'm sorry I woke you up. Is it morning?” Kurt asked.

“No, only mid-afternoon. We haven't even had supper yet. What's troubling you?”

“I don't....ah....well, it isn't....oh, shit,” Kurt said, then covered his mouth with his hand, getting sand in it and subsequently spitting it out and trying to wipe it with his shirt.

Blaine had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I don't want to talk about it – its not like it matters anyway. I will probably be marooned on this god-forsaken island until my skin is burnt and wrinkled and no man will ever want to look at me again. Then I'll go home to find everyone has finished school and has wonderful careers and loving spouses and I will be lucky if I can sit alone on the corner and sell pencils out of a cup with a sign that says: 'blind man, please take pity on me'.” Kurt's angry shouting suddenly stopped and threw himself back down on the blanket, sobbing until his shoulders shook and his body trembled. 

Blaine blinked back tears, his heart cramping like an angry fist in his chest as he tried to think of some way to calm Kurt down. There was probably nothing he could have done to prevent it: Kurt was in full panic attack. He trembled as he tried to draw in a full lung of air, but his seizing muscles prevented it and the fear spread across his face. Blaine had him in his arms in a split second, speaking calmly and trying to get Kurt to breathe.

“Kurt, you're okay. Its just a panic attack. Remember you've had them before and all you have to do is think of a calm, safe place and go there in your head,” Blaine coaxed the boy, holding him firmly but gently and stroking his temple and cheek with slow and tender touches of his fingertips. “You are safe here with me, beautiful, I won't let anything harm you. Kurt, close your eyes and try to imagine taking a slow, deep breath. Its okay if you aren't there yet, all I'm asking you to do is imagine it. Know that you are safe, that no one can harm you here, that I am holding you safe in my arms now and I won't leave you, baby, I won't let go as long as you need me I'll be here...” Blaine went on whispering promises of safety and calmness into Kurt's ear, stroking his cheek and down to his arm until finally he felt rather than heard Kurt take one deep breath and his muscles began to relax. 

“Keep doing that, Kurt, listen to your body and let each muscle go limp from your head to your toes. I'm going to lay you down on the blanket now,” Blaine started to say, which made Kurt begin to stiffen again.

“I'm not leaving you, sweet boy. I will stay right here until you tell me to go. Let me know when you need a drink of water, its right here,” Blaine said, a little surprised at Kurt's returned panic when he thought Blaine might be moving farther away. Kurt was more dependent upon him than Blaine had supposed. He continued to stroke Kurt's forehead, moving the silky chestnut hair out of his eyes.

After a long time Kurt was better: his heart beat at a steady pace, his breaths no longer painful to listen to as he lay beside Blaine. His hand was still holding on to Blaine. Now the crescent-shaped cuts that were the result of Kurt's vise-like grip on Blaine's hands were stinging. The doctor hadn't even realized how tightly Kurt had held on.

“Kurt? Do you want to talk about what just happened?” Blaine asked, very concerned about the trigger that caused this so many times in the past month.

“I'm not sure exactly. I was having this dream....my dad was dead, died of a broken heart when they never found us. Then one day we were rescued and I ended up back in Ohio, standing on a street corner in threadbare clothes in the snow. My hair was so dirty that it smelled and nobody would come close enough to put a few coins in the cup to buy a pencil. All I wanted was something to eat or a warm coat....it was so bad, and it seemed real,” Kurt lamented.

“Real?”

“Yeah, you know when you dream sometimes you know its a dream, you act bolder or you take crazy risks because you know its a dream? Well, this was the other kind – when you think its your life and nothing about it seems like a dream. And there I was, blind and alone. No family, no scholarship, nothing,” Kurt said, still lying down and still holding Blaine's hand tightly. Blaine reached over and stroked down Kurt's arm, but he jumped and Blaine pulled his hand back and didn't try to do that again.

“Scholarship?” he asked, confused. 

Kurt's face was suddenly flushed scarlet with blood racing to the surface with his embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah...that. Nevermind. It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm too late and...well, these circumstances....” Kurt said, once again biting the inside of his cheek to keep his tears from running down his face.

“You had a scholarship? Where?” Blaine asked again. Kurt could tell Blaine wasn't going to let this go and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. He wondered what his face looked like now – dry skin, chapped and peeling maybe with blotches of red and swollen from crying. He was suddenly glad he was blind, he wouldn't want to see what he'd become. 

“Ah, it was a full scholarship for all four years, including room and board,” Kurt said, not caring any more that he was crying once again in front of this man. Blaine had seen him cry before, so what did it matter?

“Wow. I mean, I knew you were intelligent and everything, but that kind of scholarship doesn't happen every day. What college?” Blaine asked. Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed.

“It doesn't matter now. Even if we are found and get back to our lives, they'll take the offer back. I can't accept it now,” Kurt said, moving his hand to indicate his eyes.

“Oh, no...Kurt, that won't matter! I think all universities and colleges have special accommodations for visually impaired students. You might need to take some instructive classes on how to do things like read Braille, things like that, but it shouldn't impair your academic career,” Blaine tried to cheer Kurt, but the boy was back to sobbing and against his better judgment Blaine gave in to his instincts and wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt. He hummed softly and kissed the boy's hair, saying encouraging things into his ear.

“You don't understand, Blaine.....the scholarship was to Parson's,” Kurt sobbed into Blaine's shoulder where he had taken refuge, his arms wrapped around Blaine's waist as he leaned heavily on the man.

“Oh, they're pretty well known – wow, such a prestigious place, and you got a four year scholarship? Congratulations!” Blaine blurted out, very impressed.

“No, you don't understand. Do you know what they teach at Parson's New School for Design?” Kurt asked, his face a picture of misery.

“No,” Blaine admitted.

“They have _visual_ arts programs. _Visual._ Architecture, Fashion, Decorative Arts, Lighting Design, Illustration, Photography. Do you notice a theme here, Doctor? Well, do you?” Kurt snapped at Blaine, taking his bad mood out on the only person he could. Kurt continued before Blaine could take breath to speak.

“They all require _eyesight_ ,” Kurt managed to say before dissolving into his self-pitying cry.

“Oh, Kurt. I know a specialist. He's an ophthalmologist and a crackerjack surgeon. I will take you there as soon as we get back to civilization. Not 'if', but 'WHEN', and I know it will be soon.” Blaine pulled Kurt into a warmer hug, patting his back and then rubbing his shoulders.

“That might work,” Kurt replied without enthusiasm, “but what if it doesn't? I'll just end up an old bachelor with dozens of cats and nobody to love me,” Kurt whined. He knew he was exaggerating, but at that moment it all seemed hopeless. He heaved a huge melancholy sigh and tried to lie back down. Blaine was having none of it.

“Kurt, you're wrong. You are an amazing man, so intelligent and kind and delicious to look at,” Blaine started, only to be interrupted by Kurt.

“ 'Delicious'? How can someone be delicious to look at? That doesn't even make sense. Blaine, its nice of you to try and cheer me up with this...ah...pep talk, but to tell the truth I think I'm relieved that I'm blind so I can't see how bad I look any more. I'm so sorry you have to look at me every day. Maybe you should be the one wearing this bandage over your eyes,” Kurt scoffed. Blaine was still insisting Kurt wear the bandage so he didn't accidentally look into the sun and damage his eyes permanently. 

“Oh, Kurt. If you only knew what the sight of you does to me,” Blaine said quietly. It wasn't until Kurt whipped his head around that Blaine realized he'd said that loud enough for Kurt to hear. He had to think of some sort of damage control, but nothing was presenting itself. 

“What? What did you mean by that, Anderson?” Kurt asked, his hand now on Blaine's arm, his fingers around the older man's forearm and gripping tightly.

Blaine sat quietly, just a bit stunned, while Kurt tried to find Blaine with his hand – fingers cupped as if he were already holding Blaine's face. Before he could give it much scrutiny, Blaine did something absolutely spontaneous. He leaned forward and put his lips on Kurt's. There was a loud gasp for air, then Blaine was the one gasping because Kurt knocked him backwards from the log where they were sitting in the shelter. Blaine was on his back in the sand, trying to catch his breath while Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's mouth. He was kissing the surprised doctor with all the pent-up frustration, angst, and passion that had been building in him since the day his father collapsed in St John. It didn't take Blaine long to regroup and return the kiss – his brain not functioning on the level required for making moral decisions. He was only returning the passion he'd been stuffing down inside himself for almost a year, since the whole clusterfuck he'd made of his life back in New York.

They gripped each other tightly, rolling in the sand but not letting their mouths part. Both of them breathing heavily through their noses, tugging and pulling to get closer as Blaine was rolled on his back once again and Kurt pressed his whole body into the muscular one he had dreamed about for the past month. Blaine reached his hands under the tattered remains of Kurt's shirt and pressed his fingers into the soft flesh he found there, using the leverage to thrust his pelvis closer, harder into Kurt's and feeling the hard erection that mirrored his own. 

Kurt pulled back just enough to get a big lungful of air and Blaine took advantage and thrust his tongue into Kurt's mouth, massaging and tasting the boy that had occupied most of his waking and sleeping thoughts for weeks. 

It wasn't until Blaine realized that Kurt was making small whining, moaning sounds that he knew the boy was on the verge of a climax. Panicked, he pushed the boy off of him, harder than he had meant to and rushing to his feet. Blaine ran. He ran as fast as he could straight into the jungle, heedless of the branches and vegetation that blocked his way; tripping and fumbling back to his feet to run and run and run.....

 

“Blaine? _Blaine_!! Where are you? What _was_ that...what did I do wrong? I'm sorry, Blaine, I'll never do it again, just come back! Don't leave me alone, Blaine....” Kurt shouted at first, ending in a small whimper as he came to the realization that Blaine was nowhere to be found. He had heard the man crashing through the trees to get away. He had apparently found Kurt to be so repulsive that he'd had to run to get away from him.....leaving him alone on the sandy ground by the shelter. Alone. Where Kurt deserved to be. Why had he been so stupid? Why couldn't he control himself? Going over the events in his mind, Kurt wasn't even clear what had happened. They had been talking about his scholarship, what he had lost and then suddenly Blaine was kissing him and...? Kurt had made a grave mistake and now it looked like he would have to pay for that. 

Kurt gathered up the few things he could manage: part of the cooked fish, a split coconut, some clothes, a container of water, and a fishing line and hooks, Kurt made a pack out of the thinner of the blankets and sat still for a moment, trying to figure out which way was the jungle and which the ocean. Sitting very still he felt the wind coming from his left and it smelled like salt water. Okay, then he had heard Blaine run to his right, into the thickest part of the jungle. To the back of where he was standing was the way to the rocks and the cliff where he'd found the spring water on that day when they had first been there, so he carefully turned all the way around and started walking. He thought briefly about going back to try and locate his shoes, but he was afraid Blaine would return, so he left without them.

 

 

* * *

 

Blaine finally ran out of energy, stopping in the middle of a clearing with his hands on his knees and leaning over to catch his breath. He stood there longer than necessary trying to figure out what to do next and spotted a fallen palm tree. He sat down on it, head in hands, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions. 

What had happened? One minute he'd been trying to calm Kurt down after a panic attack, talking about his scholarship to design school – and the next minute they were rolling in the sand, kissing and rutting against each other like horny rabbits. Blaine's face blushed deep red with shame. Why couldn't he control himself? 

It was true that he'd been having dreams about Kurt. After all, Kurt's intelligence and wit, his caring for his father and how brave he was in the face of adversity was astounding. Add to that he was beautiful to look at with his ivory skin and haunting eyes and he was just the perfect man of Blaine's dreams. The only conflict was his age. He was sixteen and although that was past the age of consent in both Ohio and New York, Blaine didn't know if it was fair to burden such a young person with the mountains of baggage that he'd been carrying within himself for far too long.

 

 

His mi nd went back to the hospital where he'd been working in the pediatric cancer ward. _All along he believed he was strong enough to be there for his patients, their parents, the staff. He had done fine for quite a while until he met Brooklyn. She was a tiny blue-eyed nine year old package of dynami_ _te that had fallen in love with him at first site. The feeling was mutual._ _Unfortunately, Brooke_ _had a particularly virulent form of leukemia and her prospects weren't good from the beginning. She was on her third round of chemo by the time she met Dr. Anderson and he could tell that her parents had given up hope. He was determined not to and went after her cancer with a vengeance. She died anyway and now Blaine blinked his eyes, wishing he could bring forth just one tear to mourn the little girl, but it didn't happen. He could cry for all the others, but thinking about Brooke and the fact that she was braver than any other person he had ever met just made tears impossible._

He'd left NY Metro after that, and Wes had asked him to come down to St Thomas where they were short of trauma surgeons. Blaine filled in at the ER for a few weeks, trying to decide what to do when he met Kurt in the cubicle where Burt Hummel was being treated. It was funny, Blaine had the same instant love for Kurt that he'd had when he met Brooklyn, and it scared him just as much. Then he'd been afraid when he realized the man that saved him from the ocean was Kurt, but managed to put it out of his mind for the weeks they had been stranded – well, for most of the time anyway. He tried to think of Kurt as a patient, as someone he could treat and release and not think much about after they parted, but with every day that went by Blaine felt himself growing closer and more in love with Kurt. He had kissed him first and Kurt's reaction was to throw himself upon Blaine and kiss him within an inch of his life. It was....well, Blaine had no idea what it was. Maybe he dreamed it. 

After sitting in the jungle for over an hour, Blaine got up, dusted himself off, and started the long walk back to the shelter to apologize to Kurt and see how he could clean up this mess he was making of his life.

 

 


	7. The Lit Match

 

Kurt had no idea where he was. Well, he had an idea, but wasn't sure of _exactly_ where he was. He knew it was north of the shelter and that he was close to the cliffs he'd found before with the rough stones beneath his feet near the head of the spring. He had wanted to be able to get water when he wanted it. Now, he needed to set up some kind of shelter and find a food source. That _sounded_ easier than it proved to be.

 

He could find the water and had the metal container to do the boiling. He could find some palm trees and get branches to make a bed of sorts and a shelter to keep out the rain. He was confident that he could live independently.

 

As the sun was setting and night cooled the air around him, Kurt shivered. It might have been more loneliness than cool air, but in either case it didn't feel good. Try as he might, Kurt found himself unable to start a fire. Blaine had matches, but Kurt hadn't been able to find them. He tried to make a device to rub sticks using a shoestring as he'd seen on one of those survival shows, but it wasn't working and now he had a sore shoulder to go along with his other miseries. If only he hadn't let his hormones rule his actions, he might be sleeping with Blaine's arm curled around him right now. He sighed again and sorted through the things he'd set in a neat pile on the ground, finding first the blanket and second the water bottle. He took a big gulp and then wrapped himself in the blanket to try and sleep. It was too uncomfortable to lie on the rocky ground, so he sat in a space he'd cleared of stones and put his head on his bent knees, his arms folded. 

 

“Good night, Dr. Blaine,” he said aloud, as if the man was here for him to speak to.

 

 

 

He did manage to doze off for a while, but not long, and woke up hungry. He tried to find the sun with his face, turning slowly to determine if the heat was pounding down but to no avail. It was still cool, so it must still be night. Kurt had kept a nightlight in the hallway of his house from the time he lost his mother when he was eight to when he entered high school. He was still a bit afraid, but his dad teased him about it and he'd acted like the light was for his dad not to trip. He missed it now, and being in this dark world made him very afraid. He hated to admit it, but he missed Blaine and if he thought he could get back to the shelter without some creature of the night stalking him, he'd be walking there now. Except he didn't know which way he should go to find it. He was screwed.

 

 

* * *

 Two nights later, Blaine was sleeping wrapped in the heavier of the two blankets. After returning to the shelter he had easily followed Kurt's footprints until he reached the rocky ground. With his stomach tied in knots, he'd looked over the edges of the cliff, afraid each time of finding Kurt's crumpled body at the bottom of the steep rocks. He kept it up, calling to him the whole time, until it was too dark to see. He found his way back to the shelter and lit the fire, praying that Kurt might hear its warm crackling or smell it and come back.

 

After maybe a half-hour of sleep, Blaine was awake again. He stirred the fire and once again went over the events of that afternoon. He did kiss Kurt first, that much he remembered clearly. Then Kurt had knocked him over backwards off the log they had been sitting on. Also very clear in his mind. It was after that when things got cloudy. He thought Kurt had kissed him back – and indeed pressed himself against Blaine's body. Could it be that he had misinterpreted the whole thing? Had Kurt been fighting to make him stop and just knocked him over in his exuberance to get away? Being freshly blind, his balance might still be precarious. Blaine shook his head. He needed to find Kurt, to fix this mess he'd gotten himself into in any way possible. They needed to feel safe together, they needed each other, and Blaine was terrified that he'd screwed that up.

 

The next day Blaine went over the beach below the rocky cliffs, looking in caves and behind rocks, wanting to find Kurt but so afraid he might find his lifeless body instead. He wondered if he had found food to eat, water to drink. Did he trip and fall, breaking his leg and was now too weak to shout for help? Had he been shouting for so many hours that he had lost his voice? Where was he???

 

The next night, Blaine got up and walked around the fire again. He'd made a torch out of coconut fiber on a bamboo stick, but it burnt too quickly and he was left in the dark and had to find his way back to the shelter by feel.

 

In the dark. Kurt was always in the dark now, due to Blaine's inability to fix him. Wasn't that what doctors did? Fix people? But Blaine was just a poor excuse for a doctor, he couldn't fix Kurt at all. 

 

Then visions of Brooke filled his mind: First, the very first day he met this little scrap of a blonde girl, around 5 years old with the eyes of an old woman.

 

_Then the image of the last few months: the skinny little blue-eyed girl who was braver than anyone Blaine had ever met. She had whispered in his ear that she wanted to talk to him when her parents and grandparents were out of the room. She was due for her chemo in the morning and he'd thought she was in need of a pep talk. She'd had several rounds of the chemo and knew the side effects: nausea, pain, stomach cramps, headaches – but mostly the gut-wrenching nausea. He had thought she might be afraid, and he had stayed with her the last time and held her for hours while her small body jerked and shook with the effects of the poison._

 

_Dr. Blaine has let Brooklyn's father sneak in a puppy one day, just so the girl could feel normal for once. They couldn't keep the dog, but a neighbor had let him borrow it for the day. The look of absolute joy on Brookie's face would stay forever in Blaine's heart._

 

_This time she wanted him to do something different_. 

 

 

_Blaine was almost asleep, his dreams of Brooklyn flooding his brain as he nodded off. Little Brooke. His failure. The reason he didn't work at New York Metro Hospital any more. He'd resigned before they could fire him, running to the shelter of St. Thomas and his friend, Wes, before they could tell him he shouldn't be a doctor. He found that he liked the ER on St Thomas. There were a team of doctors and since he was the newest, he just did what the others told him. Very safe. Until he found Kurt Hummel crouched on the floor in a full-blown panic attack. And he fell in love, holding him the way he had once held Brooklyn...wanting to make him well and safe and content. He wanted Kurt to be his._

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There was a noise in the trees by the shelter, but Blaine was sound asleep after another day and night of searching. Kurt called out to him, but his voice was soft and the sleeping man didn't stir. Thinking Blaine must still be gone, Kurt stumbled over to the fire and past the heat to the shelter. He started to lie down and found Blaine with his hands, asleep and wrapped in the blanket. Kurt, exhausted and chilly, pulled a corner of the blanket loose from Blaine's grip and wrapped it around himself as well as he could. He laid his head on Blaine's chest to listen to the heartbeat of another human being and fell asleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Blaine woke up and felt warm arms around him, a silky head of hair and a damp face pressed into his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief. Kurt had come back. It didn't matter why or on what conditions, Blaine was ready to give the boy anything if he would just stay. He ran a tentative hand across Kurt's muscled back, the soft pale skin warm to the touch and so alive. Blaine looked up to thank whomever was in charge for leading this boy back to him. He would take better care of him, not crowd him or demand things the boy wasn't ready for. He would provide food and water and shelter, warmth and companionship and support for his fears. He, Blaine Devon Anderson, MD, would do his best to be what Kurt needed until he could take him back to the father that loved him. He closed his eyes and whispered a quick amen before sinking back to the ground and relaxing, still holding this precious boy to his chest.

 

 

 

Blaine went back to sleep, but not so deep that he let go of Kurt. He felt his back, so cool to the touch, and tugged the blanket out from underneath them so he could cover the boy properly. He could see how skinny he'd become in just three days and wondered if he'd eaten at all. Blaine decided he did not appear to be dehydrated as he pinched the skin on the back of his hand to check.

 

Kurt slapped at his hand, probably thinking it was an insect biting him. Kurt was restless, but didn't let go of Blaine while he jerked in his sleep, moaning pitifully once as if his heart was broken, then after a while a slow smile graced the pink lips. Blaine wondered what he was dreaming about, but was reluctant to wake him. He had no idea how much sleep the boy had lost in his flight from the shelter. 

 

 

 

Kurt finally blinked his eyes open, shaking his head just a little and closing them again. Blaine gave a moment's thought of sorrow that Kurt was waking up because he wanted the boy to be close to him, to lie in his arms forever. Blaine smiled down as the boy opened his eyes once more, focusing on Kurt's face.

 

“Are we....can I...is it all right if....?” Kurt tried to form a sentence, but Blaine could see how weak and confused he was and placed a finger on his lips.

 

“Don't talk yet. You're fine, but I want to get you something to drink and then eat before you try to talk. Okay?” Blaine asked, hoping Kurt wouldn't fight him over this simple request. He didn't look as if he'd had a bite to eat in those days. He laid Kurt down on the thick blanket, covering him with the thin one Kurt had brought back. He got a young coconut and opened it with practiced ease and poured the resulting liquid into a cup. He held it to Kurt's mouth and watched as his Adams apple went up and down as he swallowed the coconut water. His heart gave a sudden jump in his chest and Blaine had to look away before his body started to react.

 

“Better?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded.

 

Blaine busied himself with putting some food together: a half of a fish he'd cooked last night, several bananas, a crab he'd managed to catch and some coconut meat. It was what they had most days, but Kurt ate it as if it were fit for royalty. It wasn't until he was half done with the crab that he tilted his head up as if he were looking at Blaine and blushed deep red.

 

“I...forgot. Would you like this? I don't hear you eating. Did you give me your whole breakfast?” He guessed. A frown wrinkled his brow and Blaine rushed to assure him that he didn't want anything just yet. Coffee was cooking and he would wait for that.

 

Kurt finished every morsel of food Blaine had set in front of him, then felt for any crumbs.

 

“Did you eat at all when you were gone?” Blaine asked, trying in vain not to sound worried.

 

“Yeah, a bit of the fish I took from camp. I found some coconuts, but they were old and the flesh was dried out. I didn't know how to crab or fish, although I had two lines and hooks with me. I guess I'm pretty much a failure once again. Listen, Blaine, if there are no hard feelings...I just kinda want to lie down for a while before you start telling me what an ass hat I was. I'll try not to ever do anything like that again. I have no idea what came over me, must have been heatstroke or something?”

 

“That depends...do you mean running away or do you mean what happened just before?” Blaine asked. He looked at Kurt's face for any clue to what the boy was feeling, but it seemed Kurt was aware that while he couldn't see Blaine's face, Blaine could see his and he had his expression set in a neutral facade so the doctor wouldn't have the advantage of being able to read his emotions painted all over his face. 

 

“Ah...well, I'm not sure I want to revisit that...catastrophe right now. I just meant since I tried to go away and leave you. I felt so bad, and I thought you probably wouldn't want me here when you got back. I mean...what I did was so...ah...bad...and you...ran...” Kurt mumbled, clearly not able to make a coherent sentence. Blaine felt a wave of pity work its way into his consciousness and before he'd given it thought, he found himself holding Kurt's hand and offering him solace.

 

“Don't worry about that now. I'm sure we can discuss it later. I'm neither upset nor angry about anything that happened then. I was just so scared that something could happen to you. I know you're self-reliant and all, but you are not used to navigating in a blind world and you didn't even take matches with you,” Blaine said, glossing over the kissing incident so as not to upset Kurt further.

 

“I couldn't get a fire started. Not that it mattered because the only food I found didn't taste very good. I drank the water from the spring. Now I'm full, thanks to you, and so tired. Is it okay if I sleep for a little while? I'll get up and help with whatever needs to be done in a while, okay?” Kurt asked, his face finally showing how tired and drained he really was.

 

“Oh, Kurt...here, just lie down and I'll cover you up. Is it okay if I take a nap with you? I'm pretty tired myself. Its been a rough few days,” Blaine said softly and Kurt smiled his answer.

 

“You were worried about me?” Kurt asked.

 

“Yeah, I was. I looked all over...and every minute I was so scared I'd find your lifeless body from where you had fallen from the cliffs or something. Please, Kurt, don't ever scare me like that again. Please. Next time let's talk it out,” Blaine asked, his voice catching. Kurt closed his eyes, not wanting Blaine to see how much it affected him.

 

“Yeah, we can talk. I really didn't mean to scare you. I didn't start off to do it to scare you, I thought you didn't want me,” Kurt whispered.

 

“I was scared, that's why I ran. I thought I'd upset you and that I had done something wrong. I wasn't angry with you, Kurt, only with myself,” Blaine admitted. For not talking about it, they sure were talking about it. Blaine reasoned that they needed to bring it out in the open if they wanted to resolve it, otherwise it would fester and they would have more misunderstandings.

 

“I'm sorry. I...just thought I could be okay alone. I wasn't. I missed you.”

 

“I missed you, too, Kurt Hummel.”

 

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes. He knew Kurt couldn't see him, but his eyes were just like Brooklyn's: as if he could see the ocean in them. 

 

“Kurt, your eyes are like the ocean,” Blaine said, forgetting where he was for a moment. Kurt stiffened and looked where he thought Blaine's face was, then closed his eyes tightly.

 

“Oh, no, Kurt...let me see them. Please?” Blaine asked, feeling sad that Kurt was withdrawing again.

 

“Why?” he asked. “It's not fair that you can see mine and I can't see yours, is it?”

 

“No, I guess not. But your eyes are so beautiful, can't I look at them for a just a minute more?” Blaine almost whined. “They look like...”

 

“What? A summer's day? I've heard that before. No, they are just a crazy mix of the colors French Impressionist painters used. My mother told me that. She called it 'glasz',” Kurt laughed. He was embarrassed that anyone would find his eyes so interesting. 

 

“Oh, she's right. What I see is the ocean when its calm and serene, not choppy waves but smooth as glass with little bits of golden sunshine glinting off the water. Then when you're in a bad mood, or if you're sad, your eyes resemble a stormy dark ocean, the water reflecting an angry sky about to let loose with a thunderclap and torrents of rain,” Blaine said, the scene that came to his mind playing in his head.

 

“Wow, you really are full of bullshit, aren't you? All that because you want to kiss me?” Kurt said, then clapped his hand over his mouth, wishing he could take it all back because it was not what he wanted to say to this man, no matter that he was thinking it all along. 

 

Blaine laughed, but Kurt hid his face in his hands and turned away. He was feeling for the edge of the bed so he could get up to go sit somewhere else when he felt Blaine's hand in his.

 

“Hey, Kurt. Its okay. Don't be embarrassed, I was really trying to tell you what I was thinking. You do have breathtakingly beautiful eyes. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss you,” he revealed softly, rubbing his thumb absently against Kurt's knuckles as he held his hand. Kurt didn't try to take the hand back, he squeezed Blaine's just a bit tighter.

 

Kurt was still for a few moments, then he whispered something so low that Blaine didn't catch it.

 

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” he asked, concentrating on what Kurt had said, looking intently at his pink lips.

 

“I said, 'Then go ahead and kiss me'. I'm of age, I haven't really been kissed by anyone else ....I'd like to have my first romantic kiss,” Kurt whispered, his face blushing once again, “One where I don't run away.” 

 

Blaine hesitated for a brief second, then he kissed Kurt's lips in a gentle, tender touch. Kurt could feel the warmth and softness, but he could also imagine the strength and heat that those lips could unleash. When Blaine started to pull back, Kurt's arms wrapped around his neck and held the doctor in place while he kissed back, a little harder and accompanied by a quiet moan from the back of Kurt's throat: a low sound that made Blaine's cock harden and his heart beat faster. He pulled back before he lost his mind all together and took more than Kurt was willing to give.

 

Leaning back on his elbows, Blaine looked at Kurt. He saw his lips flushed a dark pink and wondered if other parts of his anatomy were that same color of rosy pink. The swelling in Blaine's pants began to grow bigger and he was glad Kurt couldn't see him right now. Kurt put out his hand, as if he wanted Blaine to come back and whined a soft little sound.

 

“Blaine? Was that okay? Can we do it again?” he pleaded and Blaine could not deny the beautiful boy. He took his wrist and used it to guide Kurt's hand to his cheek. “I'm right here, Kurt.”

 

 

 

They kissed for a good fifteen minutes, quite enough for the first time, before Kurt felt Blaine's tongue lick wet and warm against his lower lip. Before he could think what that meant, he felt Blaine's tongue enter his mouth and brush lightly across his own tongue. His cock jerked at the feeling, getting harder with increased interest as Blaine kissed Kurt in this new way. Kurt decided he liked this.

 

“Is this okay, Kurt? Do you want me to stop? You only have to say so and...” Blaine started to say.

 

“Ah...no! I mean yes...No, I don't want to stop. If you like it, too. Blaine, it just feels so right, so....so good. Can we do it some more?” he asked politely.

 

“Yeah, I like it, too. Are you comfortable?” Blaine asked and Kurt wriggled closer to this sexy man, ready to kiss him again. 

 

Blaine let himself go, his tongue searching Kurt's mouth: soft and warm, and loving all the little noises and sighs Kurt made. It was only a short time before Kurt gathered the courage to lick his way into Blaine's mouth and his moans grew louder. 

 

“Hey, slow down, Kurt. We have all the time in the world...let's rest for a few minutes, okay?” Blaine asked, knowing he was getting too excited. He had only had a few steady dates over his years in college and they had never been in the category of serious lovers. They were more close friends who went far enough, then backed off for one reason or another, mostly on friendly terms. Blaine had dated a few girls, but sex had never really been a question with any of them. Blaine found out after just a few kisses and touching that girls were not what he wanted in life. For the most part, he was so busy with college and medical school that there was no time for romance, and being a doctor was even worse. He still had friends from Dalton, but they didn't do a lot of hanging around together until Wes had asked him to come to St. Thomas.

 

 

 

Blaine was lying on the blanket in the shelter, watching Kurt as he curled up into himself. He looked either frightened or upset and Blaine was confused at what he had done to make Kurt feel like that.

 

“Kurt?” he said softly, taking the boy's hand in his. Kurt turned quickly, facing Blaine with his neutral mask pasted on his face. “What's the matter?”

 

Kurt shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Ah...we agreed to talk when there was a misunderstanding, right? Please tell me why you're upset,” Blaine asked. He sat up and gently tugged Kurt closer, making sure he was okay with it, and helped the boy to sit in his lap. He put his arms around him and kissed his hair.

 

“I'm sorry, Blaine. Did I...did I do something wrong?” he asked, his face a picture of misery.

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“You stopped kissing me...I thought you liked it. I did. Was I too...I don't know, did I do it wrong?” Kurt asked, his voice so soft that Blaine had to lean close to hear him.

 

“Oh, Kurt, believe me when I say you did nothing wrong. No, it was....” Blaine took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. He wanted to tell Kurt, but he wasn't sure how much Kurt understood about things. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound his grandmother used to say.

 

Kurt was still looking towards him, though his eyes were unfocused, and Blaine took his hand.

 

 

 

“Kurt, it wasn't anything you did wrong,” he started again. “It was more that you were so good, so right. You made me feel things I haven't felt in a very long time and I needed to stop and sort out my feelings before we went any further. Do you understand?”

 

“Yeah. You were...disappointed in me. Well, don't worry about it. I have a thick skin, it would take more than that to hurt my feelings. I'm fine,” Kurt said, but his voice caught and Blaine thought he heard the beginning of a sob.

 

“No...no, Kurt. To be blunt, you were getting me too excited and we hadn't even talked about anything like that yet and I was trying to slow things down before I went too far,” Blaine tried to explain, but Kurt pushed Blaine's chest and gave him an angry frown.

 

“You don't have to be mean, you don't have to tease me. I get it. I may be a kid in your eyes, but I understand when I'm the butt of the joke, blind or not,” he said and Blaine grabbed his wrist before he could get up. He led Kurt's hand down to his crotch and laid the boy's hand on his achingly hard erection. Kurt froze.

 

“I wasn't teasing you, Kurt. I meant what I said, you felt so good to me I knew I had to stop,” Blaine said in a softer voice, searching Kurt's face for his reaction before the boy could put his neutral mask back on.

 

Blaine shouldn't have worried, Kurt was too shocked to do any such thing. He let his hand fall to the ground, his face showing his surprise and his mouth working until he was able to speak: “I did that to you?”

 

“Yes, Kurt, you did,” Blaine said, not sure where this was going from here.

 

“Oh...well....I'm..ah, sorry?” he muttered, turning his blushing face away, pushing at his own jeans with the heel of his hand to relieve the sudden pressure he was feeling and then blushed more.

 

“Kurt, there is nothing for either of us to be sorry about. We obviously wanted to kiss and we both obviously enjoyed it. Unless you have something...like, am I too old for you? I am about nine years older, does that bother you?” Blaine asked.

 

“No. I've always been more mature than most of the students in my classes. I had to grow up faster my dad says,” Kurt told him, “I lost my mom when I was eight and I helped my dad with the house.”

 

“Is there something else? Are you worried that when you can see again that I”ll be so ugly you won't want to be seen with me?” Blaine asked. Kurt giggled. His smile went right to Blaine's heart.

 

“No,” Kurt answered. “I've been thinking about the day Dad got sick. I don't remember your face in all the turmoil – but I do kind of recall that you had dark curly hair that you tried to tame with the wrong product so it was sort of pasted down instead of tamed. And you were wearing pink and green plaid socks. With saddle shoes. Honestly, who wears that? When we get back home I'm going to have to get you a subscription to GQ or August Men's magazine – or a Burberry catalogue at the least,” Kurt laughed again. Blaine heaved a sigh of relief. Kurt was at least smiling and laughing now.

 

“I happen to like my socks. How did you remember those and not my face?”

 

“It was after I had the panic attack. I opened my eyes when you had your arms around me, telling me I was going to be okay. The way you said it, I believed you. I was so scared – I thought I was having a heart attack just like my dad and then you convinced me I was going to be okay. When you held me so close I stopped being scared and opened my eyes a little and saw your feet,” Kurt said, shaking his head slowly. “Maybe I should have kept them closed. I might have had a relapse looking at those bright, ridiculous socks you know.”

 

Blaine laughed, too, and not thinking he reached over and kissed Kurt on the cheek.

 

“Blaine?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can we kiss again? I'll stop when you ask me to, but I really liked it,” Kurt said. Blaine put his hands over his face. He knew if he was at home he would have said no, there was just no place for such a relationship – him a doctor and Kurt a teenager. It may be that the age of consent was sixteen, but in Ohio it was hard enough just to be an out gay man without adding the age difference. Here on this island, where he had no idea how long it might be before they were found or rescued, would it be okay? Was he taking some sort of advantage of Kurt? He didn't think so – Kurt seemed to want it even more than he did. Well, Blaine told himself that they would take it slow and see. 

 

“Okay, Kurt. We can kiss,” Blaine agreed, loving the bright smile that graced the boy's face when he heard it.

 

“Can we lay down together, just so its easier?” Kurt suggested. Blaine laughed.

 

“Yes. Now, come here.”

 

They lay down on the blanket, Blaine leaning over Kurt as he teased the boy by just brushing his rosy lips feather-soft over his pink ones. Kurt sighed and put his arms around Blaine's neck to pull him closer. 


	8. The Lobster

Blaine kissed Kurt gently, not wanting to scare him. Kurt had confessed that Blaine was the first person he'd kissed and the doctor felt the heavy weight of responsibility square on his shoulders to be the best 'first' Kurt could have. 

  


While _gentle_ was Blaine's watchword for the encounter, Kurt had no such plans. He'd wanted to have a boyfriend for at least the past five years, but the opportunity just wasn't available in Lima, Ohio. Oh, he'd thought about it and once had practised to see if he really was gay. His friend, Puck, had offered to let him kiss him or go further and Kurt had put his hand down Puck's jeans while kissing him after gym one day in junior high school, but he didn't count that. He was pretty sure Puck had forgotten about that day by now – or at least he hoped so. Kurt was sure he was gay and Puck was sure Kurt was, too, but it didn't shake their friendship and Kurt was glad for that. 

  


After looking at the male models in countless GQ, Vogue, and other fashion magazines over the years, Kurt had daydreamed about having some sort of relationship with a beautiful man – but he didn't think it would be a possibility until after he moved to New York one day. It was one of those things that had the label 'future' written all over it. Something to daydream about on sunny afternoons while looking up at the clouds from his back yard. 

  


Kurt had gotten used to being on the island and would probably be fine sleeping by himself, but if the truth were known - he enjoyed having Blaine to cuddle up next to. He never mentioned that he was more comfortable within himself now, less leery of the dark night because his days were now just as dark. No, it was because he was afraid it would make Blaine want to sleep by himself. Kurt didn't want to lose the closeness and he wondered if the nightmares might return if he couldn't turn in the night and touch Blaine's face, or even his shoulder and know he was there. 

  


The best part was when Kurt woke up first and snuggled his butt back into Blaine's lap, then the hardness that grew even more stiff with the gentle stimulation. Kurt would pretend to be still sleeping and Blaine would wake up and sometimes push closer to Kurt before he realized where he was. He would turn quickly and get up, staggering off to relieve himself before returning to make breakfast.

  


“Kurt?” Blaine asked, noticing that the boy seemed to be thinking.

  


“Ah, oh – yeah?” Kurt replied, snapping back to what was going on. 

  


“Hey, are you having second thoughts? You know you don't ever have to do anything you don't want to do. If kissing isn't what you want, just tell me. Kurt, please feel free to say what you feel, what you want. Okay?” Blaine said, still worried that he was overstepping.

  


“Oh, I will. I learned to survive when the bullies were out to get me every day at McKinley. It started my freshman year and never stopped. I know more about life than you might think,” Kurt said, his face stern and carefully neutral again. Blaine hated the fact that Kurt had to mask his emotions like this to survive a hell like high school. Maybe he could help him learn that the whole world wasn't as bad as Kurt thought it was?

  


“Blaine, am I ….too eager? I mean, well, I have never had a boyfriend or even a date. I don't know how this is done, but I want to learn and it isn't as if anyone is here to tell us yes or no. We can do what we want with nobody to interfere. Doesn't that...I don't know – excite you?” Kurt asked, his voice full of hope.

  


“No, you are not too...too anything. While it's true that there are no authority figures here, no parent to tell you to keep your door open or to tell me to leave their virginal son alone – we do have to act responsibly. We will go back home as soon as we're found and we will have to live with whatever choices we've on this island,” Blaine said, feeling like he was dumping a bucket of ice water on Kurt's libido. 

  


“Well, then, can we do something more than kiss?” Kurt asked, reaching out to touch Blaine and running his hand down Blaine's chest until he reached a nipple, which he circled and rubbed, smiling when Blaine let out a surprised squawk.

  


“Oh, sensitive, aren't we?” Kurt asked, obviously basking in the knowledge that Blaine hadn't expected him to be so forward. Blaine sat for a moment, gathering his wits and thought maybe he would give this kid a run for his money. Maybe a small dose of reality would teach Kurt not to play with fire. He gently pushed Kurt down on the blanket and laid down beside him, but with his chest partially on top of Kurt's. He took his mouth first, shoving his tongue in roughly and sucking Kurt's back into his own. Kurt jumped in surprise and forgot to hold Blaine. He wanted to act mature, like he knew what he wanted and was going to go after it - - but when the reality of Blaine actually touching him hit, Kurt froze. He just laid there, a bit stiff with shock. Blaine left Kurt's mouth and trailed his tongue down his cheek, across his jaw line, and breathed quietly into Kurt's ear, causing shivers to run down his spine and gooseflesh to pop out on his arms. Then he licked his way to a spot behind Kurt's ear, one that wrung a soft moan from Kurt's throat. 

  


Blaine was not giving up. He sucked on the tender skin, biting softly until he heard Kurt gasp and his breathing race before he let go, licking gently to sooth the sting. He kissed down Kurt's neck, humming to cause vibrations until he reached Kurt's left nipple. He circled it with his tongue, then slowly licked over it, finally taking the small nub in his teeth and scraping over it, still being oh, so gentle. Kurt's back was arching to push his chest forward and Kurt's hand had a hold on Blaine's curls at the nape of his neck, pushing to get more. His cock was so hard it was beginning to ache with the anticipation and suddenly, without any warning, Kurt was spurting forth his semen, splashing into the shorts he wore and loud moans coming from his throat unbidden as his overstimulated body took matters into its own hands. Kurt pushed Blaine off of himself, rolling away and sobbing into the blanket he was so embarrassed. 

  


“Kurt...Kurt, its okay. Really, are you all right?” Blaine asked, ashamed of himself for going too far with a boy that had just told him he had never even had a date. Blaine hung his head, not sure what to do with Kurt ignoring him and sobbing. He truthfully didn't mean to embarrass the boy. He was going to tease him a bit, but he got carried away and this was the result. He had no idea Kurt would come from just that....

  


Blaine thought he should just get up and get away, leave Kurt to mend his own feelings, but deep in his heart the man knew that was the coward's way out. He had already shown himself to be a coward, running from his job in New York when he could have stayed and fought. He thought briefly about his beloved grandmother, who always had something to say about every moment in life. She'd told him to 'never grow a wishbone where your backbone ought to be'. He wished he'd have listened to her and remembered when the crisis hit back then, but he couldn't spend his life looking back. He straightened his spine and decided to act in a way that would make her proud.

  


“Kurt, can I hold you?” Blaine asked. Kurt didn't say anything, he just scooted closer, his back still to Blaine.

  


“Hey, I'm so sorry. I don't know if I should apologize or what....just tell me what you need, Kurt. I'm here and we're all we've got – so tell me how you're feeling. You didn't do anything wrong. I was in the wrong, I knew you'd never been with anyone and I took advantage of you. I am asking for your forgiveness, even if I don't deserve it.”

  


“Its okay, Blaine. You just...took me by surprise. I didn't know that could happen...” he said, his voice sounding puzzled.

  


“What?”

  


“I didn't know a guy could come without anyone..ah..touching him,” Kurt said. “Or is there something wrong with me?”

  


Blaine sat still for a moment, finally realizing exactly what had happened. He glanced down and saw the damp spot seeping through Kurt's shorts. Now he really felt guilty.

  


“Nothing wrong with you at all, sweetie. Yes, it can happen, especially if your partner overstimulates you. I'm sorry, Kurt. I promise I will know next time how to do it right for you – or at the very least I can try harder. Okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about this. It can happen to anyone and I'm not upset or turned off or anything,” Blaine soothed Kurt. “You are so beautiful, Kurt, so beautiful like that. We can do other things, things you want. I think we just need to talk about it first?” 

  


“Can we...go to a tide pool and wash? I feel gross and sticky,” Kurt whined, rubbing at his stomach with his shirt. Blaine thought a bath sounded like a good idea.

  


“Sure we can. Here, let me help you up and we'll go down to the lagoon,” Blaine offered and led the way to a small tide pool that was deep enough for them to stand in up to their waists.

  


“Is it okay if I just strip down? You can, too. I am a doctor and I've seen a lot of naked people, so please don't be shy,” he tried to comfort Kurt. The boy hesitated for a second, then pulled off the few clothes he was wearing. Blaine did the same. He'd brought clean clothes for both of them.

  


  


Blaine told Kurt how deep the water looked, then helped him into it. Kurt's face looked so blissed out when he found a rock to sit on and just relaxed in the salty water that came up to his waist when he sat on the rock. Blaine joined him, his fear of water still there as he slipped into the pool, but he could see the bottom and walked over close to Kurt. 

  


“I found a sponge on the beach yesterday and I have some soap from one of the duffel bags, do you want me to wash your back?” Blaine asked, smiling. He was hoping that something like massaging Kurt's back might calm him.

  


“Oh, that sounds like heaven. I miss my face and body products,” Kurt said, the anticipation of pleasure in his voice making Blaine hard again. The man rubbed at his erection for a full minute, wishing it away, but that wasn't happening – so he sank down in the chilly water to try and ease it away.

  


Blaine took the soap and rubbed it into the natural sponge, then touched Kurt's back gently. He began rubbing the soap into Kurt's skin in small circles, alternating washing with rinsing him with handfuls of water. He worked some of the soap into Kurt's hair and scrubbed his scalp, his fingers stiff as he carefully scratched and loosened the sand that blew into his hair during the day on the beach. Kurt was leaning back onto Blaine's chest, which made him feel protective and virile for some reason. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's body and pulled him close before rubbing more soap into the sponge and rubbing it across Kurt's chest, avoiding any stimulation of his nipples this time. It was just soft and gentle, then he dipped handfuls of the sun-warmed water to rinse the soap off. 

  


Kurt was leaning on Blaine, amazed at the feel of his naked skin as it slipped against his own, sliding without friction, but with no heat and no satisfaction. Still, it was pleasant and being close in Blaine's strong and protective arms was so good. He took the sponge from Blaine when he'd washed Kurt from neck to waist, filling it with suds from the bar of soap and turning in Blaine's arms. He turned Blaine around and first washed those silky curls, then rubbed circles on his back just the way the older man had done with him. Then he began to rinse, cupping handfuls and trying to rinse Blaine off, but his aim was off and Blaine ended up dipping himself down into the water to rinse. When he came back up, Kurt guided him to the rock he'd been sitting on and coaxed him to sit still.

  


Saturating the sponge with soap, he began washing Blaine's stomach, rubbing with the sponge in one hand and with just his hand. Blaine was enjoying the comfort of someone taking care of him, it hadn't happened often in his life. He looked across the tide pool, seeing the golden sand and the lush green trees with bright pink, yellow, red, and orange flowers blooming in the bright afternoon sun. This place really was a paradise – or it would be if they weren't all alone with no way to get home. He wondered if it had been discovered in all the time it had been here because it was hard to imagine anyone else ever stepping foot here. If they had, they had left no marks. 

  


Blaine was contemplating the wonder of being in such an isolated place in this day of cell phones and satellites when he felt Kurt's hand, full of slick soap, slide down his thigh and then slide back up. He took a deep breath.

  


Kurt continued to wash Blaine, running his hands up and down the muscles in his thighs, each time slipping closer and closer to the groin where his thigh met his pelvis. He didn't notice his breath start to increase and his heart pound faster, it happened so slowly: he felt a hand, much warmer than the surrounding water, cup against his balls between his legs. Kurt took in a sudden breath and his hand trembled just a bit. He waited until it was steady before moving so slowly, so gently like a sea anemone as he explored the wrinkled skin of the sac, the soft mounds inside, the bit of skin just behind. 

  


Blaine was the one shivering by the time Kurt had made his way back to the base of Blaine's shaft. If Blaine was a responsible person, he would stop Kurt. He willed himself to say something, to grasp the wrist of this gorgeous boy and restrain his actions. Taking a deep breath to gather his resolve, Blaine took Kurt's wrist in his hand and brought it up to his waist.

  


“Kurt, you have no idea what it is taking for me to stop you. That was feeling so good.....” Blaine stopped talking, taking a few calming breaths before continuing. 

  


“Kurt, we need to talk about this before we take another step. I'm older than you, I'm an adult and I should be the one that has the presence of mind to do the right thing. Now, let's rinse off and get dressed. We can go back to the shelter and eat what's there or we can try to find something else to eat like clams or whatnot. Okay?” Blaine said, his voice cracking a bit with his desire, but knowing he got his point across by looking at Kurt's face. 

  


“All right, Blaine. I'm sorry, I guess. I keep forgetting I'm just a kid in your eyes,” Kurt said, not facing Blaine but reaching into the water to rinse off and walk out of the tide pool to find his clothes.

  


 

  


Kurt wasn't exactly sulky, but there was a marked difference between the way he walked down to the beach to bathe and the way he returned. The bounce in his step was gone, the smile had disappeared. Blaine, walking a few feet behind him, knew he'd taken that away from Kurt and he felt terrible. He began to question in his mind whether it was such a bad thing to let Kurt have what he so obviously wanted? He was of legal age, they were the only inhabitants of this island for the foreseeable future. It had been a couple of months after all – and Blaine was beginning to wonder if they were fated to spend the rest of their lives here. It was depressing, but at least he was sharing the little bit of land with an amazing person. Things could be worse he supposed.

  


 

  


They walked over to the beach where they knew clams could be found and Blaine dug down to find enough to cook for a late lunch. 

  


“Kurt?” Blaine called and Kurt turned around and walked towards his friend's voice. 

  


“Blaine?”

  


“I have something I was thinking about. Now, you can say no of course, but hear me out. There are a few tide pools that are much larger than the little ones we've been playing around in. I think we can get some food from them, but I can't swim. Do you think you can swim down to get some scallops? They look like they're sort of attached to the rocks maybe. I just thought they might be a welcome change?” Blaine outlined. “I know you can't see them, but I think you can feel them?”

  


“Ah, well, I guess so. You'll wait there at the edge for me, right?” Kurt asked, a wee bit apprehensive. He was getting used to not seeing, but to jump into a deep pool with no idea where he was? It was a scary thought.

  


“Of course I will!” Blaine assured him.

  


“All right. Lead the way,” Kurt agreed. Blaine took his arm and they walked down the beach to the large tide pool. 

  


“It looks to me to be about thirty feet deep, but the scallops are not that far down. There are rocks that form shelves and I think if you hold on to those, you can make your way down to the place I see the scallops. Here's a knife,” Blaine said, placing the short but thick knife in Kurt's hand, “but be careful of it. You might need it to pry them away from the rocks. It's low tide, so I think its the best time of day to do this,” he encouraged.

  


Kurt stripped off his shirt and got into the water gingerly. It was warm though and he was comfortable right away. 

  


“I see a bunch about ten feet down on this wall,” Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand and placing it on the wall of rocks. “Okay?”

  


“Sure thing. I'll be right back up,” Kurt assured him.

  


Kurt sank as low as he could then took hold of the rocks to 'climb' down to the shelf where he was able to feel the scallops. Or at least he hoped they were scallops by the feel. He tried pulling them off, but the sharp edges kept him from getting a good grip. He surfaced and Blaine was right there as promised.

  


“Too hard to do? Don't worry, it was only an idea,” he said, failing to keep the disappointment from his voice.

  


“No, just too sharp to get a grip on. Do you have something like a thick pad I can use? If I can get a good hold I'm pretty sure I can pry them loose,” Kurt said. He couldn't see it, but a wide grin spread across Blaine's face. He could hear it in his voice, though.

  


“No problem! Here, this is the shirt I was wearing. Just fold it a few times and it might work,” Blaine offered.

  


Kurt took the shirt and folded it, then dove down and found the shelf of rock. He used the shirt to protect his hand and pried off several scallops but found he needed something to put them in to get them to the surface. He stuffed a few in his pockets and swam quickly up to Blaine.

  


“Okay, here are a few – these are scallops, right?” Kurt asked, digging them out of his pockets.

  


“Yes!” Blaine crowed, leaning over to kiss Kurt on the cheek.

  


“I need a bag or something to bring them up then. I can only fit a few in my pockets and I can't hold them, the shirt, and the knife while feeling my way along the rock shelves,” Kurt said, treading water.

  


“Here's your shirt, will that work for now? We don't need all that many for dinner tonight,” Blaine said, handing Kurt the other shirt – tails and sleeves knotted into a hastily-made bag of sorts. Kurt took it, felt to see how it was constructed and tied it to his belt loop. He took a huge breath and went under once more.

  


This time he was able to pry off a few more and with the help of the knife he pried loose a dozen or so that were stuck together. He had let out his air and needed some oxygen right away. He kicked up from the rock shelf and breached the water, gasping as he felt the warm tropical air fill his starving lungs. 

  


“Kurt! Are you okay? You were down there for so long!” Blaine shouted, running to where Kurt had come up, reaching for his hand and pulling him close to the edge.

  


“I'm fine, just needed a breath. I have to go back – I dropped the sack when it came undone from my belt loop. No problem, I felt it with my foot on the next shelf down when I kicked off to surface. Let me get my breath and I'll go get it. Here's the knife and your shirt,” Kurt said, handing them to Blaine. 

  


“You don't have to. Its not worth you drowning for a few bits of meat, Kurt. Come out, we can eat the clams.”

  


“Oh, quit worrying, Mother. I'm fine. It just worked loose from my belt loop. I'll be right back up,” Kurt said, turning to dive back down. He was getting more comfortable in the water and found the shelf with the shirt-bag right away. It was snagged on something and so Kurt reached in to loosen it when a sharp pain radiated from his fingers all the way up his arm. He let loose a bit of air as his silent scream went out, but he pulled his arm back, still holding the bag of scallops, and found what had pinched him so hard. Taking the culprit by it's back and swimming up to Blaine to show off his trophies.

  


“Kurt!” Blaine shouted, reaching to pull the boy closer once again before he saw what Kurt was holding. 

  


“Oh, my stars in heaven! I have never seen a bigger lobster in my whole life!” he exclaimed, taking the bag of scallops from Kurt and helping him out of the water. The lobster was indeed a huge specimen, probably weighing in at well over four pounds. 

  


“Would you like a bite of my friend here for supper tonight, Squire?” Kurt kidded. 

  


“That is amazing!” Blaine gasped, taking the monster and wrapping him in his wet shirt for transport back to the shelter. He picked up the bag of clams and the shirt that held the scallops and handed those to Kurt. They took hold of each others' hands and walked back to the shelter carrying their booty from the sea, grins on their faces.

  


 

  


Supper that night was the best one they'd had since being on the island. Steamed clams and scallops with the huge lobster that Blaine had split in half and cleaned then placed on the fire to cook. There were the ever-present coconuts and a pineapple that Blaine had found and cut in large chunks. The two sat close together, Kurt practically in Blaine's lap as they shared the bites of lobster. Blaine pulled out a section of the large claw and fed it to Kurt, who hummed his enjoyment and leaned up to kiss Blaine. It was just a sweet kiss, Kurt's plump lips pressing against Blaine's ever-sensitive mouth for a brief moment and then brushed lightly across them, warm and full of promise, before being taken away. Kurt didn't see it, but Blaine caught himself following those lips for a moment and a deep regret as Kurt turned back to finish eating his clams and scallops. 

  


Blaine closed his eyes, absently palming at his jean shorts and the bulge underneath for a moment to resettle himself, and looked to see what was left of the lobster. He cut the tail meat in two pieces and each of those into bites, picking one up.

  


     

  


“More lobster?” he asked and Kurt leaned back once more, snuggling against Blaine's chest.

  


“I'd love some, thank you,” he answered and Blaine fed him another bite, fingertips touching those soft lips and sending sparks down Blaine's nerve paths to make him smile once more. 

  


Kurt picked up a piece of the lobster, feeling across the plate to find it, then holding it a little in front of Blaine's face so as not to bump it into his nose or something. Blaine moved forward to take the bit from him, kissing Kurt's fingers as he took the tidbit. Kurt smiled and found another piece, holding it in the same place for Blaine to take, but this time Blaine took the lobster and held Kurt's hand in place. He swallowed the bit of seafood and brought the boy's fingers to his lips, licking the salt from them and taking the boy's first finger into his mouth to suck for a moment, swirling his tongue around the tip and pulling back – leaving a small kiss on the tip of Kurt's finger. Kurt sucked in air, trying so hard not to react but losing that battle as he let the sound out of his throat. Blaine loved that sound...a breathy moan that came suddenly and wrapped itself around in Blaine's head like a snake, squeezing his brain. 

  


Kurt moved a bit closer. He was already practically in Blaine's lap anyway, but the feeling of Blaine's arousal rubbing into his back did things to Kurt that he never knew he could feel. It was different than the days when he looked at pictures of actors or models and brought himself pleasure. This was deeper, it hit him like a freight train and he was unsure what to do with the strong emotions. 

  


“Blaine?” he asked, trying to turn his head so he was facing the man. 

  


“Sorry, Kurt...” he said in a low voice, adjusting the way he was lying back so that they were sitting straighter and Kurt's back wasn't in contact with Blaine anymore. Kurt was frustrated with this whole thing. He had tried to ask for more, and Blaine seemed to want more – then something happened each time for them to be torn apart. 

  


“Why are you sorry? Don't you like me?” he asked, his bruised ego going to the place it always went when confronted by what he thought was rejection.

  


“Of course I like you, Kurt. Of course I do,” he tried to reassure Kurt, but he could see that the boy didn't believe him. 

  


“I need to...I'm...I'll be back in a moment,” Kurt said and got up to walk to the place away from the shelter that they were using to relieve themselves. Kurt found the tree and urinated, trying to think of what he had done to make Blaine pull back from him this time. It was so confusing, one minute he was feeding him bits of the lobster, seeming to be content and happy. Then the next minute Blaine was sucking on his fingers in such an erotic way, and when Kurt responded Blaine had withdrawn from him again. Kurt hit the tree in frustration, hurting his knuckles in the process. He let out a yelp, cursing the tree and his lousy temper, holding his hand in his other arm, close to his body. 

  


“Kurt?” Blaine called, searching through the trees to find him. “What happened?”

  


“Nothing,” Kurt said, hiding his hand behind his back so Blaine wouldn't see how childish he was.

  


“Come on, Kurt. I can see you're in pain, what happened?”

  


“I'd rather not say. I'm tired, I want to go to bed now. Can I help you clean up the campsite?” Kurt asked.

  


“Not much to clean, I washed the dishes with sand and we can rinse them in the spring tomorrow. I took the trash to the midden behind the rocks and the rest of Mr. Pinchy is wrapped in banana leaves and awaiting our breakfast,” Blaine explained. 

  


“Mr. Pinchy?” Kurt laughed. “Yes, he'd impress even Homer Simpson I think.”

  


Blaine smiled, but he didn't forget about Kurt's hidden hand and as soon as Kurt walked past him on his way to the shelter, he took the wrist Kurt had been hiding and looked at the raw and bleeding knuckles. Without saying anything, he kissed them lightly and folded his hand around Kurt's damaged one very gently and they walked back to the make-shift tent. 

  


 

  


They got ready for bed, both stripping down to underwear in the heat of the tropical jungle. Blaine stirred and banked the fire, set the water jugs out to be taken to be filled in the morning, and then crawled into bed next to Kurt.

  


“Dinner was so delicious, Blaine. Thank you for cooking it – especially the lobster. Delicious,” Kurt said.

  


“I couldn't have cooked it if you hadn't caught it,” Blaine said logically, “but thank you.”

  


“Anytime...” Kurt said, sleep taking him. He was tired from all the things they had done that day, but it was probably more his emotions that made him want to sleep. He wanted to figure out why Blaine kept sending mixed signals – or maybe he was just misinterpreting them that way? He was so confused. He heaved a deep sigh and let his arm fall to the blanket, so unsure of himself now that he was afraid to touch Blaine. He closed his eyes, but sleep was not his friend tonight. 

  


Blaine was lying very close to Kurt, but he could tell that Kurt didn't want to be touched. Just a breath across his arm had sent him turning away. Blaine knew it was his fault, that he needed to talk with Kurt before anything else happened. 

  


At the same moment, both of them turned to each other. 

  


“We need to talk,” Blaine said.

  


“Can I ask you...?” Kurt said at the same time. 

  


Both laughed nervously and Kurt sat up. 

  


Blaine sat up facing the boy and took his hands, “You can ask me anything, Kurt. We're friends, aren't we?” 

  


Kurt froze, not sure what to say to that.

  


“Just friends?” he asked.


	9. True Confessions

_ _

  


_Blaine sat up facing the boy and took his hands, “You can ask me anything, Kurt. We're friends, aren't we?”_

  


_Kurt froze, not sure what to say to that._

  


“ _Just friends?” he asked._

  


 

  


“Well, Kurt, I think we need to talk about that, too,” Blaine said. 

  


“Okay, you first,” Kurt said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pulling back with determination. He knew he was at a disadvantage because he could not see Blaine's face, so he needed to know a few things. “Is it dark outside?”

  


“Yes, I'm guessing it must be past ten or so. There is no moon tonight and the fire is banked, so its very dark. I'm guessing you want a level playing field?” Blaine smirked, amused at Kurt's intelligence. It was funny how he'd fallen into describing everything to Kurt without giving it conscious thought now.

  


“Something like that. My dad always told me I couldn't lie to him because I wore my heart on my sleeve. I guess he's right, huh?” Kurt admitted. He could never keep anything from his dad and right now he would give his left arm to be able to talk to his dad for five minutes. He was going to make some adult decisions and he didn't have much experience in that, at least not in terms of love. Or sex.

  


“Kurt, I don't think you would lie to me, I don't think you have it in you to be deceitful. I've never questioned anything you've ever said to me, if that's what you're worried about.”

  


“No, not exactly. Well, I guess I better just jump right into it. I don't want you to be able to read my face during the talk we're going to have. I can't see how you're reacting and I admit I'm kind of afraid,” Kurt said. Blaine nodded his head before realizing Kurt couldn't see him do it.

  


“I think we're friends at the very least, Kurt, and I don't want anything to change that. Okay?”

  


“I agree. I think this island is too small for us to live in separate republics, right?” Kurt snarked. Blaine giggled. This was one of the reasons he liked Kurt so much. He was always full of so many wonderful surprises.

  


“I am older than you, but not by all that much. You're seventeen, right?” Blaine asked and Kurt said he would be seventeen on his next birthday. “I'm about ten years older. Does that bother you at all?”

  


“No. Should it? I know you probably know more about life than I do, and certainly more about the human body, but I see that as a good thing. You can teach me. I'm a fast learner,” Kurt said in all seriousness. 

  


“Oh, I might be able to teach you a few things – but you can probably teach me, too. Kurt, I know you told me this morning that you wanted more than just kissing. What did you have in mind?”

  


“Ah...way to jump right to the point. My dad talked to me about sex last year. He was embarrassed because I'm gay and he knew so little about the...ah...'mechanics' of it as he puts it. He went to a clinic and got me pamphlets on that. I read them, and I do understand the basics. Well, I think I do anyway. My dad talked more about how it changed people, how my body is mine and if I choose to share it with someone, that person should be someone I trust and care deeply about. My dad is always right about things like that. He made me understand how special and amazing having sex can be with the right person. I've wanted to find that 'right' person for a long time, Blaine,” Kurt said, gathering up his courage and reaching over to find Blaine's hand to hold.

  


“I don't know what to say, Kurt. I think you are the most amazing person I've ever met. I hope I can be that person for you. We don't need to do anything but kiss for as long as you want, and if you want more, and we agree, we could try that. I think we need to move slowly, though, because as fun as sex can be it needs to be something we both agree on at each step. Do you know what I mean?” Blaine asked.

  


“Yes, you have to give respect before you can earn it. That works in relationships, too. I respect you, Blaine. At every crisis in my recent life, you were the one there to hold my hand and see me through. I don't know what I would do without you, Blaine. If I were on this island alone? I'd probably be dead now. You have been the one to save me. And I mean that not just in the physical sense, but in my mind, too. You cannot imagine how scared I was when I found out I couldn't see. I'm still scared every morning when I wake up and it is still as dark as it was all through the night. But now – now that I can snuggle up to you when I feel lost or scared, and I know I'll make it through the day – if only for you, Blaine.”

  


 

  


Blaine sat quietly for a while, taking it all in and trying to think of what to say. He was so emotional right now that if Kurt so much as touched his arm he might shatter into a billion pieces. Looking over at Kurt's profile in the scant light, he thought about this beautiful boy, about his kind nature and bright spirit. Would he have fallen for him if they were in New York? The answer came to him just as Kurt moved a little closer, knees touching now but not too close. Yes, he would have fallen for Kurt. He recalled his first encounter with the boy back in St Thomas.

  


Kurt was on the floor in a full-blown anxiety attack and not listening to anyone. Several nurses and nurse practitioners, a few CNA's and anyone on the EMT squad had walked past the cubicle, but none had seen the boy. Blaine had come in the room and seen a person in need. He could have just given him a shot, but one look at the boy and Blaine's heart went out to him. He spoke calmly and took the gorgeous boy in his arms and promised things he had never said to anyone. Not his parents, not his brother, and certainly not to any boyfriend he'd ever had. Looking back, he might just have fallen in love with Kurt that very day – when Kurt was struggling in his arms and then finally trusted him and relaxed into Blaine's embrace. 

  


“Oh, Kurt. If you only knew what I feel for you right now. You know, you saved my life, too. I was going to drown – you knew that didn't you?” he asked and Kurt nodded. “I never learned to swim, in spite of all the lessons my parents paid for. I was...and am...terrified of water. So, to be flung out into a storm and dumped in the ocean with only a piece of wood to hold me up? Then I saw you and I knew, even from so far away I could only see a bit of color on the boat, I knew you were coming to save me.”

  


“I think fate must have meant for us to find each other. If it had been a while later, I wouldn't have even seen you. My vision was blurring even then. A few hours and the blindness would have killed us both,” Kurt said and shivered at the thought. Blaine felt it and moved to take Kurt in his arms.

  


“Is this okay?” he asked and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine tighter.

  


“Yeah, more than okay,” he answered. “Can we go to bed? I'm tired from everything today and maybe we can just hold each other?”

  


“Sure, Kurt.”

  


They lay together on the blanket, very close as Blaine spread the thinner blanket over them and scooted closer to the beautiful boy. Kurt turned to find Blaine and kissed his forehead and cheek before finding the luscious lips he craved now. He hummed in delight, brushing his lips softly over Blaine's as they kissed for quite a while before Blaine licked his way into Kurt's mouth. Kurt groaned, his skin tingling as the heat moved down his spine and settled in his gut. He was so turned on and not sure where to go from here. He did not want a repeat of the embarrassing scene of that morning and kept himself in control.

  


Blaine had wanted more but keeping himself in check wasn't necessary anymore, so he began stroking Kurt's skin. He was soft and gentle, not thrusting or rubbing yet. Fingertips across the expanse of pale skin displayed in front of him calmed Kurt is some ways, but lit him on fire in others.

  


“Kurt? Can we maybe take off the rest of our clothes?” Blaine asked. Kurt smiled and struggled out of the offending shorts and briefs, leaving them beside the blankets. He turned back, feeling that Blaine was sans his own clothes and his body was warm against Kurt's.

  


“Blaine, I think I told you that I've never had a boyfriend, never been on a date. Well, I've never seen another boy without his clothes other than gym class, and ...and...”

  


Blaine stopped him from talking with another deep kiss, pressing his tongue into Kurt's mouth and feeling his hardness grow as it brushed against his leg. He took Kurt's hand and guided it to touch his cock and Kurt gasped. He had never felt another man's erection and it was amazing: all hard muscle and silky skin. He tried to smother a moan, but Blaine heard him and his erection got just a shade harder.

  


Kurt didn't know exactly what to do and began stroking it as he would have his own, but this felt so much different. Kurt's might have been a bit longer, but Blaine was so thick and Kurt was getting dizzy just thinking about what he was doing. How was this huge thing going to fit inside him? The boy pulled back for a moment, that thought making him afraid. The pamphlets said it would work with enough prep, but Kurt was skeptical. Plus, they were on an island, it wasn't like they could go to the nearest store and buy a bottle of lube. Maybe this wouldn't work after all.

  


“Ah, Blaine? Are you..ah..bigger than most men?” he asked with a shy voice.

  


Blaine stopped to think. It wasn't anything anyone had ever ventured to ask him before. 

  


“I don't think so,” he said, uncertain. 

  


“Ah....okay,” Kurt said, letting the fear show a little in his voice.

  


“Kurt, we aren't going to be doing anything...well, we won't be making love tonight, so don't be scared. We can talk about it when the time comes. I thought for tonight we can just touch? Get to know each others bodies a little better. Is that all right?” Blaine asked.

  


Kurt let out a relieved sigh. 

  


“Yes.”

  


“If I do anything you don't like or aren't ready for, can you tell me?” Blaine asked. This was important for him and for Kurt.

  


“Yeah, I can say so.”

  


“You are so beautiful,” Blaine sighed and kissed Kurt's neck. He felt the boy's skin shiver and Kurt moved a little closer, arching his head back to ask for more. Blaine was happy to comply. He kissed just under Kurt's ear, and along his jaw before once more kissing his lips. Kurt took his lesson seriously and moved to kiss Blaine's neck. It was exciting to hear the moans that came from his throat as Kurt slid his tongue along to lick over his collarbone. 

  


Kurt took it further, kissing down Blaine's chest with a dusting of dark hair that Kurt was coming to love. He ran his fingers through it, so lightly it tickled and to Kurt's delight, Blaine laughed. That was a sound Kurt wanted to hear more and more.

  


Although Blaine licking his nipples had made a very unprepared Kurt climax earlier that day, Kurt didn't think the same thing would happen to Blaine, so he tentatively licked over the left one, smiling when Blaine moaned. He went back to do it again, spending time nuzzling into Blaine's chest and giving his nipples tiny licks as he rubbed and stroked. 

  


Eventually, Kurt got past that and down to Blaine's abs. They were muscular and hard, and Kurt played his fingers over them until Blaine giggled. Of course Kurt had to tickle him again and Blaine rolled over on top of Kurt to stop any more of that. 

  


“Umph...” Kurt said as Blaine laid full length over Kurt's body. Blaine kissed him for a moment, then whispered in his ear.

  


“Kurt, can I lick your cock, put it in my mouth and suck you?”

  


Kurt almost came from just the _words_ and he began to tremble. Blaine couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation, so he asked again, “Is that okay?”

  


“Yes,” Kurt managed to get out, as he tried to keep himself calm. He tried to keep still, but his hips had a mind of their own and bucked forward. Blaine smiled and placed a hand on his left hipbone to keep him still. He started by just light touches with his fingertips, stroking down and back up for a while. When he felt Kurt's muscles unclench and relax a bit he wrapped his hand around the shaft and moved his hand in a more determined way, but without lube this wasn't going to work for very long.

  


Just as Kurt was starting to pant a little, tiny noises coming unbidden from his mouth, Blaine dipped his head down and took Kurt into his mouth. 

  


“Ahhhh..” Kurt tried to stop any noise from coming, but wasn't able to stop his moans as the nerves made his body heat up and his heart pound in his chest. Blaine sucked gently, swirling his tongue to create lubrication and touch the sensitive area at the ridge of the crown. Kurt had never felt anything like this and he moaned loudly, trying not to push his way deeper. Blaine must have read his mind because that was exactly what happened, he opened his mouth wider and engulfed more of Kurt, feeling the tip just at the back of his throat. He pulled back and pushed forward, pumping as he moved his tongue in swirls and then to concentrate on the sweet spot where the vein met the crown. Kurt squealed.

  


“Is there more, Blaine? Oh...I don't know if I can live through this.....oh..that is so good,” he rambled, not paying the slightest attention to what he was saying. It finally just turned into a whispered “Blaine...Blaine....oh, Blaine...”

  


Blaine was dizzy, this was much better than even his imagination had been dreaming up for the past few weeks.

  


The man redoubled his efforts, sucking harder and rubbing on the sweet spot. He reached up and began to rub his right nipple.....and Kurt tried to tell him to move, but Blaine only sucked a little harder and began to hum. Kurt stiffened for a split second before semen came splashing down Blaine's throat and Kurt was shouting his name. He kept it up a bit more gently until Kurt put a restraining hand on his shoulder and they fell back on the blanket, panting and smiling. After a few minutes, Blaine reached over and took Kurt's wrist, kissing the tender skin there before he pulled the boy closer, wrapping his arms around him.

  


Kurt was exhausted now. That was the most intense thing that had ever happened to him, and he could hardly believe it was real. He turned to snuggle his face down in Blaine's neck when his leg brushed against Blaine's still hard erection. Oh...

  


He shifted around a bit until Blaine asked him what was the matter.

  


To answer, he took Blaine into his warm mouth and tried to remember what Blaine had done. 

  


“Kurt, you don't have to....” Blaine started to say, but Kurt began to suck and move his tongue and Blaine forgot what it was he had planned to say. Kurt might be new at this, but he was a very, very fast learner. He had Blaine moaning and gripping the blankets in moments, his mind a jumble of excitement as Kurt began moving up and down. Blaine arched his back suddenly and Kurt knew he was very close. He could feel his own cock trying to get hard in sympathy – or perhaps it was the amazing noise that was coming from Blaine and pulling him along. Kurt could smell the arousal, feel the damp hair as he reached down to stroke Blaine's balls. He really wasn't ready when Blaine arched, his muscles tight and his hands in fists and let the fire take him. He came harder than he could ever remember coming, hearing Kurt choke for a moment before he sucked gently in just the way Blaine had until Blaine touched his shoulder.

  


“Oh, my gods....Kurt...” he whispered, gripping the boy under his arms to tug him up even with Blaine. The doctor couldn't help wrapping the boy in his arms and moving a leg to bring him so close. Blaine was never letting go of this amazing boy. Ever. 

  


Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's chest, rubbing his cheek over the silky hair before burying his face in the older man's neck and sighing in contentment.

  


“Was I...okay?” Kurt asked in a small voice, wanting so badly to be reassured he'd done it right.

  


“Yes, Kurt. It was the best I've ever had,” Blaine said truthfully.

  


“Really? Then you probably haven't had very many lovers if I'm the best,” Kurt said in a teasing tone, but Blaine could hear the underlying need for acceptance in his voice.

  


“I have had a few. I'm not some floozy, you know, I haven't played around with a lot of men, no. Kurt, I have never really found the right person. I was a shy kid, and with the bullying in high school I never had a boyfriend. In college and med school I was too busy studying to have any kind of lasting relationship. Then as an intern there was no time for anything, and finally I was practising at a busy New York hospital – well, I just never made time for a partner. I wasn't one to have a one-night-stand. I guess I never met anyone special enough for me to make the sacrifice of my time, energy...love. Maybe I was just born under an unlucky star,” Blaine sighed.

  


“And now?”

  


“Now?....Kurt, I think you could be that special to me. In the time we've been on the island, I have sort of...ah...fallen in love with you. I think,” Blaine whispered, surprising himself. He had known he was attracted to Kurt, but until this minute he hadn't realized he might be in love with him. 

  


Kurt was absolutely silent, his face buried in Blaine's neck. This had come as an absolute surprise. He thought Blaine just wanted to have sex and he was the only option on this deserted island. He knew he had a crush on the man, but real love? This would take some serious thought.

  


Blaine was sure now that he'd said too much. His damned impulsive tongue didn't know how to keep his thoughts from just spilling out for everyone to hear, long before he had thought of the consequences. He sighed and pulled back to try and see how Kurt had taken it, but it was too dark to see his face.

  


“Hey, Kurt. I'm sorry. Really sorry. I shouldn't have said that,” he apologized, trying to think of some way to remedy this situation. With only two people on the island, they needed to make sure they didn't make the other one uncomfortable, and Blaine had failed. Epically failed.

  


“There is no reason for you to be sorry – if you really meant what you said,” Kurt murmured.

  


Blaine stopped to think this over, but he was sure of what he'd said.

  


“I hope it doesn't make you feel bad or uncomfortable, but I meant every word I said. I do think I might be in love with you. Its okay if you don't feel the same way, and you don't have to say anything. I just thought it was only fair to tell you,” Blaine tried to explain, but he knew he was falling short of what his true feelings were. He held back, not wanting to overwhelm Kurt until he knew how the boy felt about him.

  


“Blaine...I think I need to go to sleep. Can we talk about this later?”

  


“Yes, sure. Here, lay your head and we can get some rest. Sweet dreams, my friend,” Blaine said, wanting to call him something different – like baby or sweetheart – but it didn't feel right since they hadn't talked about their relationship yet. Blaine shifted in the make-shift bed, trying to get comfortable in the soft sand, and then put his arms around Kurt – who was still buried in his neck. He kissed the boy's hair and closed his eyes. Sleep was elusive for a long time as Blaine weighed and sorted through his emotions for the first time since he'd left New York. He drifted off, listening to Kurt breathing. 


	10. Final Confession

Kurt woke up first, feeling a streak of sunlight warming his face. He could almost see it, he thought, but that was probably his imagination. The only time he could see now was in his dreams. His dreams. They tended to be either wild, vivid splashes of color, sometimes with a curly-haired man that came to him and made him feel so good; or they were dark and had the blues and grays of a stormy ocean trying to drown him. A few times it was of his dad in the hospital room back in Lima, lying cold and unresponsive in the bed while Kurt held his hand for hour after hour after lonely hour with no change. He wondered if his dad was feeling like that now. In any case, the dream would always fade when he got up to start another day.

They had now been on the island, as best they could figure, about four months. Their diet was still consisting of coconuts, fish, seafood like crabs, clams, mussels and an occasional lobster or pineapple. Last month Kurt had been the one to find the mango tree. He could smell it and brought Blaine to see if it was indeed a mango. They ate so many that night, both had belly aches the next morning. They speculated that a seed had washed up on shore or a bird had dropped it since it was apparently the only one on the small atoll. 

 

Kurt limped out of the shelter, stepping carefully because yesterday morning he had carelessly put his foot down on a hot coal from the fire and burned it. Blaine found an aloe plant and coated the burn, wrapping his sore foot in a bandage from the first aid kit. It was still very sore, but Kurt was able to walk on it again.

He felt around the “kitchen”, a space they had built shelves to keep their supplies and found the lobster from last night, a bunch of ripe bananas, and the ever-present coconuts. He set about cutting the food in pieces and placing it on the two tin plates they had found. Then finding his coffee can and Blaine's tomato juice can, he filled them with water from the container they stored it in. The water was from the spring and was always sweet tasting. Kurt looked up towards the sky and sent a thank you to his mother who he believed might just be looking out for him.

 

It had been a week since Blaine had declared that he might be falling in love with Kurt and they hadn't gone back to the subject, although it had been on Kurt's mind ever since. He rarely thought about anything else now, and it was burning a hole in him that he could not make up his mind what to do. He thought he loved Blaine, too, but he kept coming back to the same question. It was the crux of the whole thing, and he was determined to ask Blaine about it today. 

 

“Morning, Kurt! Oh, I see you fixed breakfast. Thank you,” Blaine said, walking over to the boy and kissing him on the cheek. 

“Morning to you, too, and you are entirely welcome,” Kurt said, holding out the plate of cold lobster, bananas, and coconut flakes. “Today we're having French toast with maple syrup and an omelet with cheddar cheese and strips of bacon,” Kurt announced. It had become the running joke to think of a new breakfast item each morning and pretend they were eating it. Yesterday Blaine had said it was pancakes with chocolate chips. It made Kurt's mouth water to think of those fluffy cakes in a stack on a china plate with a big, cold glass of milk. 

 

“Oh, that sounds so good,” Blaine said, a faraway look in his eye. “When was the last time you had that?” he asked. It was part of the game.

“A week before my dad had his first heart attack,” Kurt answered. “We were eating at the local diner and I didn't want the meatloaf – which is what Dad was having. I got to looking at the menu and it said they served breakfast any time, so I ordered breakfast for dinner.”

“How was it?” Blaine asked, wanting every detail.

“Fine. I didn't appreciate it like I should have, but that can be said for most of what I ate in my lifetime,” Kurt reminisced. “We had been at the garage, Dad was working on a touchy carburetor rebuild and I had just finished the month's inventory. We were both just exhausted and on the way home he pulled into that diner. It wasn't something we did very often, I usually cooked, but he could see how tired I was. It was so nice of him, and so typical of him to think of a way to make me happy. I miss my dad,” Kurt blinked back some emotional tears and coughed. “So, when was the last time you had chocolate chip pancakes?”

They hadn't played the game yesterday because Kurt had stepped on the coal after Blaine had chosen the pancake breakfast.

 

Blaine sat on the log and thought about the pancakes. He knew exactly when he'd had them, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it. He was quiet for so long that Kurt finally walked over, feeling his way along the log before he sat down next to the man. He slipped his arms around Blaine and kissed his neck.

“What's wrong?” he asked, feeling something wasn't right.

Blaine shook his head.

“Ah...nothing. I was thinking about the day I ate those pancakes. Its a sad memory I guess,” he said.

“Oh. Well, you don't have to tell me, why bring up bad memories? We can go walk on the beach if you want,” Kurt said, a little melancholy himself now.

“No...its something I probably need to tell you before we get in any deeper. Its a long, sad story and I don't know if you'll feel the same way about me when I tell you – but, god, Kurt, I have to tell someone. Its eating me alive since it happened, and since you are the only one here......oh, damn it. Are you sure you want to hear it?” 

Kurt took Blaine's hand and silently led him back to the shelter, lying down and holding his arms up to the man. Blaine laid down beside him and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, pulling him close so Blaine's back was against Kurt's chest. He kissed his ear and laid his head down on the make-shift pillow.

“Okay, now tell me. Start at the beginning and tell me everything. I won't judge you, I promise,” Kurt said in a quiet and soothing voice. Blaine was comforted by Kurt's actions and began to wonder who was the adult and who the child here.

“I became a doctor because I wanted to do something good in this world. I was bullied for being short, for my long hair, the color of my skin...but mostly for being gay. My parents put me in a private boy's school before I came out to them. When I finally did, at the age of 15, they blamed themselves for 'making' me gay. I tried to educate them, but they never believed me. I don't think they understand to this day. It wasn't as if they hated me, or wanted to get rid of me – no, it was more as if they blamed my 'sad and horrific condition' on themselves.

“I got through high school and found I loved math and science, so I majored in biology in college, then turned to pre-med. I went to medical school in New York and interned in one of the busiest hospitals in the country, in the trauma surgery department. I was so burnt out in just a few years, I decided to switch to something else and there was an opening for a pediatric oncologist at New York Metro. I applied and got the job. I thought it would be hard work, but in the end I was helping little children who couldn't help themselves. And that is how it went: I was very good at my job, I had good communication with the kids and with the parents, I was able to treat a lot of children that wouldn't have a chance without the things I did for them,” Blaine continued. Kurt put his cheek to Blaine's back, still listening but also hearing his heartbeat. It was a comforting sound and Kurt tightened his grip as Blaine's heart sped up.

“It was a good fit. I was always sad when I lost a patient, but I knew I was going to have to face that if I was treating cancer. I was okay, for the most part. Sad sometimes, but there was always another kid that needed me. I got a promotion and it seemed like everyone liked me. 

“Then I met Brooklyn. She was seven and had a form of leukemia. She'd been battling it for four years, in remission and out of remission, more procedures, more chemo, more radiation. She just kept bouncing back and I had high hopes that she might beat the odds. I was so proud of myself the last time she finished a round of chemo. But it had destroyed part of her colon and I'd had to do a partial colonectomy – I removed part of her intestine and she had a colostomy bag. She was a trouper, though. This little six year old smiled and joked and showed the world that she was a fighter. She didn't hold back when I had to teach her how to take care of the tubes and things. She never complained about anything. When I could see the pain in every inch of her body – her face sweating with the strain not to cry, her arms shaking with the determination of keeping the pain at bay - all she would say was that she was 'uncomfortable'. It would break your heart.

“One night, I was in the hospital seeing a patient that had just been admitted and I happened to walk by Brooke's room. She was alone, which didn't happen often. She was crying, which happened even less. I slipped in the room and took her in my arms. I knew doctors weren't supposed to get that close to their patients, but she was my special girl. She stopped crying immediately, of course, and laid her head on my shoulder. I gathered her up, sat down in the chair beside her bed rocked her until I thought she had fallen asleep, but she wasn't. She whispered to me that she was tired of fighting. She didn't want to have any more procedures or medication or anything. She knew it wasn't her decision, it was her parents', but she wanted me to know how she felt.

“I stayed with her for a while until she fell asleep. Then I went home and for the first time, I cried over a patient because I had caused that – all that pain and stress and heartbreak for that tiny girl,” Blaine said, breaking down and crying. Kurt held him close, whispering encouraging things in his ear and petting his curls, kissing his neck until he had calmed down.

“Kurt, I don't want to tell you this, but I don't think I can keep it to myself. Two weeks later, I was there at night again and Brooke was by herself. I waved at her and she waved back as I passed her room. It was just a small wave, very weak. I finished what I was doing, then walked back in her room. She looked at me – and I knew I was going to have to call the crash cart to revive her soon. Her lips were blue, she was ashen – but she blew me a kiss before she closed her eyes. I just stood there, holding her hand, doing nothing. She was done and I knew it. She had fought and it was time. I sat in the rocker beside her bed, gathered her up in her blanket, and I rocked her for about an hour – her fist holding my shirt. I...I heard her whisper to me. She said, 'Thank you'. She died in my arms and I did nothing to stop it.”

 

Blaine broke down, crying and shaking. Kurt held on as tightly as he could, kissing Blaine's curls and humming to him. Blaine sobbed and sobbed, finally just sniffing. He blinked his eyes and Kurt wiped the tears from his cheeks as well as he could. 

 

“You alright?” Kurt asked, knowing that crying can be healing in some cases. He knew, though, that all the tears in the world were never going to erase little Brooklyn from Blaine's mind.

 

“The hospital didn't charge me with anything, there was no actual proof I'd been negligent, but I knew in my heart I could have done something. The head administrator asked me if I wanted to find another hospital in another city where I might ...ah...'fit in' better.

“I called my brother and he came right away. I told him a little of the story and he called our friend Wes and before I knew it, I was in St Thomas as a temporary trauma physician.”

Kurt didn't know what to say, it seemed so out of his league at first. Then he gave it careful thought. What would he have done? Saved Brooke to make her parents happy for a few more months while the girl suffered? No.

“Blaine, I think you did the right thing. I think Brooke trusted you to stop her suffering and in the end, _she_ was your patient not her parents. You took care of _her_ and kept  her wishes the way she wanted you to. Maybe if there were more doctors like you there would be less suffering in this world, baby. God bless you,” Kurt said. He didn't realize he'd called Blaine 'baby', or that he spoke of a god he only wished existed. It was straight from his heart and the truth of it rang in Blaine's heart. He felt better for the first time since Brooke's funeral.

“What about the pancakes?” Kurt asked, hoping that he could get Blaine to move on from the sad tale.

“Cooper, my brother, made them for me. When we were little, my mother would make chocolate chip pancakes for us on our birthdays. He made them the day I left New York,” Blaine said, closing his eyes. He missed his brother, he missed Wes and although most days were fine, he missed helping people. Here he was with Kurt and he was feeling so inadequate that he could not help Kurt with his eyesight. Tears ran down his cheeks and he closed his eyes again. It wasn't long before Kurt's comforting caresses on his eyebrow and soft kisses to his neck made him sleepy. He was asleep before he knew it and Kurt was left to think about how he felt about Blaine now.

 

* * *

 

 

**Charlotte Amalie, St Thomas, Virgin Islands**

 

“Oh, no, Rebecca, I don't think I can eat another thing. Thank you for the breakfast, you are a phenomenal cook,” Burt said, finishing the last bit of his egg white omelet and picking up his mug of herbal tea. 

“It was on your diet, Burt. I checked the list. Now, are you going with us on the boat today?” Rebecca asked. She already knew the answer so it was just a matter of politeness to ask.

“If it 's no bother. We are going to look by the atolls near St Kitts, right?” Burt asked.

Rebecca nodded. 

“As soon as Milo gets home. He's due to be here in another hour. He radioed that he had picked up our daughter and grandson so they'll be here and probably go with us,” Rebecca said, clearing the dishes. She washed while Burt dried and put them away.

 

When Kurt was reported missing, Burt had a small heart attack. Lucky for him, he was in the hospital still and quick action saved him. He couldn't fly home and knew nobody on the island – so Rebecca and Milo offered to let him stay at their house just outside the city. Milo was a pilot for a large construction company and flew all around the world on a regular basis. Rebecca was staying in their home on St Thomas and was glad of the company; Burt was just a few years older than her daughter. 

In the next months, Burt haunted the police station, the Coast Guard, and anyone else that might be of service. He was determined to make good use of the time he had and kept up the search for his son every chance he could. It had been four months and five days now, but he wasn't willing to even entertain the thought that Kurt was dead. He read all the reports on the hurricane, searching for any clue. Seven people were still missing and Burt was sure that Kurt's mother was up in heaven watching out for their son. Just two weeks ago three people had been found on a small piece of land not too far from the place they were going to search today – all practically skeletons, but alive. Burt knew Kurt was a survivor and he wanted to find him. Life wouldn't be worth living without Kurt.

He knew his time in the Caribbean was coming to an end. His brother, Frank, was managing his garage back in Lima, but that couldn't last forever. Even the generosity of Milo and Rebecca would run out one day. Burt had offered to pay for his keep, but Milo wouldn't take it. 

 

An hour later, Rebecca's little dog was barking and Milo walked in the front door, hugging Rebecca tightly and grinning at Burt. Behind him came their daughter and grandson, carrying luggage and bags.

When they came back down the stairs, Rebecca introduced them.

“Burt Hummel, please meet my daughter, Carole Hudson, and her son, Finn. They are spending the rest of the summer here and I hope going with us on the yacht today– right?” she said, looking at her daughter.

“I think that would be great. We'll be ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail. It's good to meet you, Burt,” Carole answered, smiling at the man. Her father had told her about their guest and his son's disappearance. 

Finn shook Burt's hand, a little shy but anxious to get on the yacht. He loved to sail and visiting his grandparents for the summer was a dream come true. 

The sun was shining and the water was that shade of clear azure blue with just a hint of green as they sailed down the wind to a group of small islands and atolls to the east of St Kitt. Milo was as comfortable navigating his yacht as he was piloting his plane and sat in the wheelhouse with a grin on his face and a pipe in his mouth. Rebecca was sunning herself on deck, probably asleep on the chaise lounge, and Milo could just see Carole's sleeve where she was on the deck, leaning against the back of the cabin and talking to Burt. Milo smiled to himself. He knew his wife did not approve of his matchmaking, but Burt was such a good man, and Carole had been a widow for way too long. Milo didn't want to throw the two at each other – he just wanted to help things along in a gentle manner. He took hold of the wheel and cut the bow across a small wave, throwing Carole forward a bit – where Burt caught her in his arms. Milo smiled a little bigger and straightened the wheel.

 

* * *

 

 

Kurt walked along the beach, his hand in Blaine's. He tried to tell himself that it was just to help him navigate the beach, but he really did love the feel of Blaine's skin on his. He smiled to himself, unaware of Blaine seeing his face and smiling, too. 

“Hey, there's something on the beach up ahead. Careful....” Blaine said, his curiosity piqued. 

The two men approached the dirty bundle of rags, a strong smell of fish permeating the air. It was obvious that the thing had been thrown up on the rocks by the high tide, they had found a lot of things after a high tide, but this one made noise.

“What is it?” Kurt asked. “It stinks!”

“Yeah, but its alive, I can see it moving. Wait, can I use your bamboo stick?” Blaine asked. Kurt used a length of bamboo to help him keep steady while he walked. He held it out for his friend.

Blaine took it and got nearer to the bundle, reaching out to see if he could touch it. Whatever it was startled and threw itself around, but Blaine could see how weak it was. He took out his knife and cut the netting that covered the animal, leaving it lying on the sand.

“What is it?” Kurt asked, cursing his eyes for the millionth time.

“Ah...a bird, I think. It looks half-drowned. I cut a net off of it, but the poor thing is exhausted. I don't know if we can help it,” Blaine said.

“But you're a doctor!” Kurt said, then covered his mouth too late. He didn't want to force Blaine into anything he didn't want to do.

“That I am. A doctor. But not a veterinarian. I'll do the best I can,” he decided. Leaning over the bird, he pulled the seaweed off of it and picked the skinny thing up, taking it to a tidal pool and washing it off. Wrapped in a piece of canvas they had found on the beach, probably from a sail, Blaine and Kurt carried the large bird back to the shelter.

 

“Well, its wing is definitely broken. In two places, maybe more. Its right eye is infected, maybe blind, and its keel bone is sticking out so far I doubt the poor thing has had a meal in a week. But I do have good news: its a pelican. I don't know enough to tell if its a girl or a boy, though.”

“Tell me what it looks like?” Kurt asked. He usually didn't have to ask, Blaine was very good at describing things but his yearning to help this creature had made him forget that Kurt couldn't see.

“I'm going to guess its a male since its so big...maybe 20 pounds? Anyway, he is pure white with black feathers in his wings. His beak is orange and gets almost red near his face. Its kind of intimidating....the rims of his eyes are the same color of reddish orange and there is a lump on the top of his beak. His eyes are dark brown and look so intelligent, as if the bird could tell us all kinds of things if he could talk,” Blaine said and Kurt laughed. 

“I can see the pouch under the lower part of the beak, which is why I knew it was a pelican and not a swan – although they look similar. Well, at least to me,” Blaine laughed.

Kurt grinned as a silly limerick came to his mind:

 

“ _A wonderful bird is the pelican,_  
His bill will hold more than his belican,  
He can take in his beak  
Enough food for a week  
But I'm damned if I see how the helican!”

 

Blaine laughed, scaring the bird who in turn tried to flap its wings. The broken one just flailed, and the bird cried out in a scary voice so close to a human that both men shivered. 

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Blaine cooed at the frightened bird and put his shirt over its head, landing the bird in darkness. It settled right down. 

“What are we going to name him?” Blaine asked, scratching the stubble on his chin as he contemplated what to call the bird.

“Dixon, of course,” Kurt said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as if this was the only name possible.

“Well, I like it – it sort of fits him, but why that name? Does he look like a favorite uncle of yours or something?”

“No. Uncle Frank is short, chubby, and bald. No, Dixon Lanier Merritt was a journalist. He wrote the limerick about the pelican,” Kurt said.

“Leave it to you to know the name of some obscure newspaperman, Kurt,” Blaine laughed, “I'm going to wrap his wing to his body so he won't move it. I can try to set the bones, but I am not a bird doctor. Birds have different bones and I've never tried to set a bone without an X-ray. Here, Kurt, can you hold him here?” Blaine asked, putting Kurt's hands where he needed them to be. After 45 minutes of struggle, the pelican was standing before them, his wings tied tightly to his body. He moved his head up and down, obviously unhappy with the way he'd been treated. 

“I think we better go get him some fish. That's what they eat, right?” Kurt asked.

“I think so. He isn't going too far for now, I'm going to tie a piece of twine to his leg and the other end to the bamboo in the shade. I put some water in that big pan, I hope he can drink okay.”

“Good, I have the fishing stuff ready,” Kurt said, picking up the bag and finding his bamboo stick.

They walked down to the beach, making their way to a tidal pool first. The men had found it was often easier to find fish left behind in these pools and to get them out with a net. Kurt had mended the net when they found it, tying string to fill in the holes, then Blaine stretched it over a hoop he'd made of bamboo to catch fish. A few scoops of fish later, they had a bucket full of small fish for their new houseguest.

Walking back, Kurt thought he heard an engine, but Blaine didn't see anything and hadn't heard it. Maybe it was just his imagination.

 

Back at the camp, the pelican was standing near the shelter and a good deal of the water was gone from the pan. 

“Hey, Dixon, are you hungry?” Kurt asked, following the string to find the bird. He put his hand on the soft feathers and the bird just stood still. Maybe he was just too tired to fight or maybe he was unafraid of people for some reason, but Kurt was glad he could touch it. He felt into the bucket and brought out a fish. The pelican opened his beak and Blaine helped Kurt feed it the fish. After ten little fish, the bird walked away. 

“Well, that's as much as we can do for the poor fella. I just hope his wing heals,” Blaine said, watching the beautiful white bird. 

 

Finding and caring for the pelican had taken most of the day, but at the very least it had taken Blaine's mind off of Brooklyn and his confession to Kurt. For his part, Kurt hadn't forgotten Blaine's sad story, but he couldn't help it if he had visions of Blaine holding their own little girl one day. He shook his head. If they got off the atoll and back to civilization, would Blaine still be interested in him? It was a fear that nagged at his soul all the time now. He could hardly imagine what life would be like if he lost Blaine, and it made him very afraid. 

After dinner that night, Kurt snuggled up to Blaine, more needy than usual. Several times that day he'd thought he saw some bit of lighter patterns in the dark that had become his world. He was scared to tell Blaine, not wanting to get his hopes up, but now that they were lying quietly it came back to haunt him. Was he hallucinating?

“Hey, sweetie, what's wrong?” Blaine asked in a soft voice. After so much intimate time together, he could read Kurt's moods. 

“Ah...I think I'm just tired,” Kurt said. 

Blaine didn't believe that for a split second. He could tell something big was bothering the boy he was falling in love with. Turning in the blanket, Blaine faced Kurt and kissed him lightly. Kurt kissed back, gently at first as they shared a quiet moment. This went on for a while, first one then the other closing the space between them to touch their lips together. 

“What time is it?” Kurt asked. 

“Ah....maybe eleven or so? Its late, the sun has been down for hours. Why?”

“No reason,” Kurt said, turning his head. He couldn't feel the fire, so he assumed it was dark.

“Kurt, is there something going on that I need to know? Or that you want to share with me? Because I just get the feeling there is something bothering you and I can't figure it out. Does it have something to do with Dixon?” Blaine asked, wondering if the pelican was on his friend's mind. 

“I don't want to talk about it, at least not now. Give me some time, okay Doc?” Kurt said.

Blaine shut his mouth. He knew if the boy was calling him 'Doc' that it was serious. Kurt only called him that if he was thinking about a serious subject in which their age difference was bothering him.

“Kurt, there is a subject I've wanted to bring up, and now seems as good a time as any,” Blaine probed, wondering if Kurt was in a receptive mood. 

Kurt was silent for a few moments, his mind thinking up all kinds of bad things. Somehow he convinced himself that no matter how bad it was, it was better to know it than speculate about it.

“Okay, what's up?” the boy asked, moving a little to make a space between them.

“Its about when we get back to civilization,” he said softly, then waited for Kurt to agree to hear him out.

“Don't you mean ' _if_ we get back', not 'when'?”

“I mean _when_ , Kurt. I have every hope that we will be found. I know you miss your dad and I want to help you get your eyesight back,” Blaine said.

“Oh, that.....do you really think it will come back?” Kurt asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Yes. I can't guarantee it, but I do think so,” Blaine said. He didn't want to give Kurt false hope – the longer his eyes were affected, the less likely a cure would be. 

“Do you think we'll be friends even after we go back?” Kurt asked. He had wanted to ask a thousand times, but he chickened out each time. Now was as good as any time to be courageous.

“Yes...but Kurt, don't you think we're more than friends now?” Blaine asked, a little hurt that Kurt would not call them boyfriends at least.

“Yeah....I do. Blaine, how do you feel about me? I can't see how you look at me, or gauge your degree of any emotion. Maybe if I was born this way I might have the ability to do things like that, but it has been just four months or so....I'm at a disadvantage here. If we're going to work, you might want to give me a little more feedback?” Kurt said, trying in vain not to sound petulant. 

Blaine took that in, spinning his thoughts into a kaleidoscope of colors and ideas. He was mixed up about it, even if he did know for a fact that he was in love with Kurt. Was it fair to let Kurt fall for him, too? Or was it just a lack of options?

“That is fair, Kurt. Its hard for me to say what I'm feeling, even if I know how much you need it. I'm sorry. Okay, cards on the table time?” he asked.

“Yes, for both of us, Blaine. Spill.”

“Kurt, I think I'm in love with you,” Blaine said bluntly.

“You think or you know?” Kurt asked, chastising himself for borrowing the line from an old Dawson's Creek episode when Joey told Pacey she loved him – appropriately enough, it was the episode when they left on an ocean voyage. Blaine said something and Kurt's mind was wandering to the old tv show. He shook his head and pointed his face towards where he could hear Blaine. 

“Sorry, I couldn't hear you,” he mumbled.

“I said I am in love with you, Kurt Hummel, and I don't want to lose you once we leave this island.”

Kurt lay still, wondering if he was making this all up in his head and not wanting to wake from this dream. 

“Kurt? I meant every word of that, but if you don't feel the same....?” Blaine said in a small voice, now scared he'd gone too far.

“Blaine....” Kurt said, rolling closer and putting his arms gingerly around Blaine's shoulders. “Oh, Blaine....I dreamed you would say that. I hoped it for so long....really? You want me?” Kurt enthused, hardly believing this was real. He hugged Blaine close, then accepted the man's kisses and it snowballed from there. 

“Kurt, I love you,” Blaine said once again, tasting each word as it came out of his mouth, loving being able to say it out loud.

“I love you, too, Blaine. I do...” Kurt replied, hugging Blaine closer. He could wait for a better time to mention the skittering shades of light that had been coming more frequently as the days passed. 

The two had wrapped themselves around each other, kissing and tasting and breathing. It wasn't exactly a frenzy, but it wasn't too far off. They weren't wearing very much anyway, what with the heat during the days and the slight chill that made them cuddle together under the blanket at night. Skin touched skin and their breaths came harder and deeper as the kissing got harder and deeper.

“Blaine? Can we...ah...please, is there more?” Kurt asked as Blaine slipped his fingers around Kurt's cock. The request brought a new surge of feeling to Blaine's already hard erection. 

“Yes, there is...are you ready for it, you think?” Blaine asked. He was ready, but had waited for Kurt to initiate the next step.

“Oh, yes....yes,” he whispered. 

Blaine got up from the blanket and walked quickly to the 'kitchen', the group of make-shift shelves where they stored the few things that had come from the duffel bags or washed up on shore. He grabbed the bottle of olive oil that had been in the bag with a few pantry items and utensils. He had thought about using the bottle for cooking, but for some reason hadn't even opened it yet. Apparently his subconscious had a better use for the slick liquid.

“Blaine? Where did you go?” Kurt asked.

“Just to get something....where were we?” Blaine asked, lying down closer to Kurt, his clothes now folded at the side of the shelter. 

He helped Kurt remove his and they touched, careful and slow at first. Blaine loved the sounds Kurt made, a small gasp as Blaine licked the warm place under his ear, an intake of breath as he trailed his fingers down the muscles of his abdomen. 

“Blaine...please can we do more?” Kurt asked again, his voice lower and full of want and need. 

“Yes, baby...” Blaine said. He took the bottle of oil and poured a bit in his hand, Moving his dry hand up Kurt's thigh, he kissed him and moved to his butt cheek. Kurt moaned at the touch, his legs quivering for a few moments at the new sensation before parting as he kissed deeper in encouragement. Blaine slipped his fingers between the cheeks, moving gently but firmly so as not to startle his lover. Kurt's moans got deeper still as Blaine rubbed the pad of his slick thumb over the puckered skin, pressing softly for now, not breaching the tight sphincter muscle guarding Kurt's body.

“Blaine,” was all Kurt said, his breath fast and shallow, his muscles taut and trembling just a bit. Blaine continued rubbing slowly, so gentle as Kurt moaned louder. When Blaine judged he was ready, he increased the pressure, just barely pushing in as he massaged the ring of muscle, waiting for Kurt to relax before going further.

“Relax, baby....” Blaine whispered, “Is that good?”

“Yes, Blaine....so good. Can you....engh....can you touch my cock, too?”

Blaine moved his other hand to slowly encircle Kurt as requested. He moved up and down as his other fingers swirled around his sphincter, dipping in when he felt the muscle release. Going deeper, he massaged the muscle and pushed deeper still.

“Oh...ngh...yes...” Kurt let lose, not knowing or caring what he was saying. He leaned up to kiss Blaine, plunging his tongue into his lover's mouth to the rhythm of Blaine's finger.

“Is more okay now?” Blaine asked and Kurt moaned a yes. Blaine made sure he had enough oil on his fingers and added the second, continuing the slow, gentle rhythm. He slowed down the pumping of Kurt's cock when he felt it get so hard that Kurt was trembling again. 

“Blaine....please, Blaine....I want it to be you, not your fingers now. Can I have you?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, baby...but tell me if its too much or if you want me to stop. Okay?”

Kurt was too wound up to speak, but Blaine was not going further unless he knew Kurt understood. He stopped moving, gently pulling his fingers out.

Kurt looked in his direction with a surprised look on his face.

“Kurt, you can tell me to stop if its too much or you need a break. Just say so or grab my arm and I'll stop. Do you want to go on?” 

Kurt heard him that time and nodded his head then said, “Yes, Blaine...I understand. I want this....I've wanted this so badly. Do you think it will still hurt a lot?” Kurt asked. He was frightened, but wanted it so much he'd hidden his fear away from himself until just now.

Blaine took the bottle of oil and poured a little more onto his palm. He slid it over his cock, surprised at how good it felt to just do that much. His hand wanted to keep doing it, but Kurt was waiting. Blaine took his slick hand and smoothed the rest of the oil on Kurt, stroking him so the nerves would be stimulated – hopefully to the point that the first thrust wouldn't hurt as much. Blaine recalled his introduction to sex and he wished the inexperienced boy had known a bit more.

Kurt was running his hands down Blaine's sides.

“Sweetheart, it will be easier for you if we lay with you on your side in front of me. It will be easier for you to relax that way. Okay?” Blaine suggested. Kurt nodded and turned on his side. Blaine got in back of him, running his hands over the boy as he relaxed his muscles, Blaine kissing his neck and stroking him gently with an arm thrown over his hip.

“Okay, baby...remember to say if it's too much,” Blaine told him. He did not want to hurt Kurt. He slid closer, moving Kurt's left knee up a bit and pulling that cheek back affording him better access. He put a finger back in, then another, finding the sweet spot to massage for a moment. Kurt gasped, turning his head so Blaine could kiss him. Then Kurt felt Blaine's cock, entering him with slow moves, gentle little thrusts. It hurt. More than Kurt had anticipated, with a burning, searing pain for a moment. Blaine felt Kurt stiffen in surprise, then hiss through his teeth as more flesh entered his body.

“You okay, baby?” Blaine asked, but Kurt said it was fine and he would let Blaine know if it got worse.

Blaine moved a little faster, thinking it might be better with the slickness and friction coming in a shorter expanse of time. He went quickly enough, but not too quickly because he didn't want to tear Kurt at all. Blaine had treated more than a few men and women who had gone too fast with not enough lubricant. He didn't want that for Kurt, he wanted it to be a good experience. Stopping to kiss Kurt's neck, rub a finger over the pebbled nipple of his left side, and hum a sort of comforting sound as he thrust ever so slowly and gently into the depths of Kurt. 

He continued to stroke, paying special attention with his hand to the ridge under the crown of his cock. At the same time, he pushed the final bit into Kurt. It was all he could do to hang on and not climax, Kurt was of course tight and warm and velvety smooth. He found himself light-headed and so horny, hardly able to think of anything but pushing and pulling, thrusting and withdrawing, like the waves against the shore in a rhythm as old as time. It was a struggle to keep himself at a pace that would let Kurt get used to the feeling before he pushed him further.

“Blaine...it hurts so much. Not as bad as at first, but...I don't know if stopping will hurt less?” Kurt asked. He did not want his voice to begin begging, he wanted this, had wanted it for months...he was not going to give up now. 

Blaine slowed even more, but Kurt objected and began moving in the rhythm Blaine had started. With a few more strokes, the burn was easing and Kurt was starting to enjoy it. He eventually thrust back, the feeling getting better to him with each stroke.

“Can we...can we change so we're face to face now?” Kurt asked and Blaine pulled out, turning Kurt to lie on his back while he climbed between his legs. Blaine entered Kurt again once he'd added more oil, and the boy made an amazing noise, so erotic that Blaine felt a jolt from deep inside. He leaned down to kiss Kurt again, running one hand down his chest and tenderly grasping his cock, stroking as he thrust inside.

“Yesyesyes,” Kurt chanted, losing his ability to speak clearly. It still hurt a little, but the good feeling was so overwhelming he wasn't going to let the small burning stop him. 

Blaine was having trouble keeping the pace slow enough that he wasn't on the edge. Kurt was not only tight and warm and amazing, but the sounds coming out of his throat were better than any song. Blaine wanted this to last forever. 

“Blaine!” Kurt said, startled and amazed when Blaine's thrusting hit the sensitive place that his lover's fingers had found earlier, but this time it was his thick, warm cock and it felt so much better. Kurt lost track of all the feelings that flowed through his body, each different and better and more than the last. He lost track of whether it was an hour or a few moments, but the time was near and the feelings and with them the emotions that Kurt had held in check were all going to erupt at once. Kurt was worried that he should wait for Blaine to come first, but then it wasn't a matter of waiting because Kurt had no means to do that any more. The heat was rising, the tingling coming over his limbs as all of his blood was gathering to burst forth....

And it was absolutely silent as Kurt came, the thrusting and accepting all done and now the feeling was more and better and more and more....than he'd ever felt before in his life. 

Just as the thought passed through his mind of whether Blaine was in the same space, he felt the steady pulsing against his insides, the deep, throaty sounds of Blaine as he came just after Kurt and fleeting as it was, Kurt was proud that it was him that let Blaine's floodgates open. 

Kurt lay back on the blanket, wanting this peace to last, wanting Blaine to stay curled next to him for the rest of the night and maybe even all day tomorrow. 

 

Blaine had taken a piece of cloth and cleaned Kurt's skin, wiping away the thick liquid that covered him in spots from thighs to chest. He'd even turned him to his side and tenderly cleaned the rest of him before Kurt heard him rinse the cloth in the little bucket and wash himself. After that, Blaine laid down in back of Kurt, gathering him close and pulling the thin blanket over them to form a nest. They didn't talk much, just Blaine asking if Kurt was okay, was he happy? Kurt answering that it was the best night he'd ever had. 

“Blaine, I know now I could love you until the end of time,” Kurt said. It might have been a bit of an overstatement, too adolescent, too optimistic....but it warmed Blaine's damaged heart in a way nobody – not even his beloved brother or his best friend – had been able to do. He wished that Kurt's simple wish could be true. 

“Same with me, baby. I love you, too.”


	11. Seeing the Light

“Burt, would you like to walk on the beach with me tonight?” Carole asked. She had spent the last week at her parents' house walking on egg-shells with their house guest and had told herself repeatedly that she needed to be a little bolder. 

“I'd be happy to if you'd like,” Burt replied, but it didn't seem as if his heart was in it. 

Carole understood. Her own husband had died in service to his country, even if it wasn't in the heat of a battle. He had been a sweet boy, full of life and honor. He joined the military out of some misconceived aspiration of being a hero and when that turned into the nightmare of neglect and failed dreams he had taken his own life. Carole didn't know if his last thoughts were of his family: of her or his young son, Finn, who was barely a toddler, but it didn't matter because he was gone. 

Now she was trying to help this new friend she'd been given, this man that was tearing himself up over the loss of his son; trying desperately to hold on to the hope that Kurt might still be alive somewhere. Carole knew that feeling, thinking of the days when her husband had been overseas, in a war. She closed her eyes and asked God to give her the strength to live through this again, for the sake of her friend.

 

“Hey, Mom, did you want me to walk with you?” Finn asked. He could see his mother was emotional, though he didn't know the cause of it. He rarely did. When she got that look, he would walk with her or just sit beside her and hold her hand while they watched television or sat on the porch swing. He knew it helped, she would usually be okay again in a few hours. He suspected that she might be lonely or missing his dad, so when his grandparents asked them to stay in St Thomas for the rest of the summer, Finn was optimistic that it might heal his mother to be near her parents. 

“No, sweetheart, Burt is going with me. You can go visit that cute brunette I saw you with earlier today,” she smiled. Finn had always made friends easily and apparently the island was no exception since he already had a bevy of young friends that called or came over to get him for summer fun.

Finn blushed, so he must like this new girl, Carole guessed.

“Okay, Mom. Yeah, Sheila asked me to come to the dive-in – they're showing one of the old Star Wars movies tonight.”

“Dive-in? Don't you mean _drive_ -in?” Carole asked.

“No, they show the movie at the shore and they have those blow-up chairs that float? The audience is in the shallow part of the bay, which is roped off by buoys. So...you know _dive_ -in...get it?” Finn giggled. 

“Oh, very clever. Well, okay, sure. Be home by midnight. Do you need some money?” she asked.

Finn smiled at his mother. “No, I'm fine. Thanks, Mom, and have a good evening, okay?”

“I will, sweetie.”

 

When the sun was starting to set, Carole and Burt were walking down a deserted part of the beach. Burt had been telling her a funny story about Kurt and a tea party he'd insisted on having, including making petit fours. It took longer to clean the kitchen than to have the tea party. Carole laughed along with Burt.

“Kurt must be an amazing boy,” she said, walking closer.

“Yeah. I can hardly wait to see him smile at me again. I miss him so much...” Burt said in a melancholy voice, stopping to gather himself together. He had never been so close to tears as these past few weeks. It had now been five months and he was starting to admit to himself that Kurt might actually be gone.

Carole stepped closer in front of Burt, reaching up to wipe away the tears running down his cheeks. She hadn't actually seen him cry in the past month, but she could sometimes hear him late at night. She tried to think of something to say to make it better, but long hours of thinking had come up with nothing. So, she pulled him down to her and brushed her lips across his – and kissed him. To her surprise, he kissed her back and they spent the next half hour standing on the deserted beach in the last rays of the tropical sun just kissing. 

 

 

* * *

 

“Come here, Dixon, come to Papa,” Kurt coaxed, holding a small fish for the pelican to gobble down. He could hear Blaine laughing from the log over by the shelter, but he ignored his boyfriend to try to get the bird to come closer to him.

“You need a dog, Kurt. I don't think that pelican is going to sit on your lap or lick your face,” Blaine said in a kidding voice.

“I don't need him to lick me – I have you for that,” Kurt snarked. He hated being made fun of and his wit was as sharp as ever, even here where the only other person was Blaine.

The doctor got up and walked towards Kurt, stepping silently across the fine sand so he could kiss his boyfriend. It had been the best month of his life, these past four weeks with Kurt. He couldn't help but imagine what being back in Charlotte Amalie would be like, he and Kurt sharing a little bungalow on the beach. Coming home every day to Kurt's sexy smile and warm arms would be everything Blaine had ever wanted. 

As he walked closer to the boy, his shadow happened to pass over Kurt and Blaine saw him flinch. He stopped in his tracks, wondering if the heat from the sun could be felt in just those few seconds when his shadow passed. He moved so the sun was back on Kurt, then sank down to see what would happen. Kurt flinched again.

“Kurt?” he asked and the boy startled, turning quickly towards the sound of Blaine's voice.

“Yeah? I'm over here with Dixon,” he answered, moving his head to try and hear what direction Blaine's voice had come from.

“Kurt, can you see anything at all?” Blaine asked, hurrying to his side.

“Ah..well...I don't know. Every once in a while I think I see sort of a gray or a rosy sort of color, like it flickers. I thought it was my imagination, why?” Kurt said, sinking down to sit on the sand beside the large bird.

“Kurt, when I was walking over here, I blocked the sun from hitting your face, and you flinched.”

“No, I don't think I did. I didn't notice anyway....maybe it was a coincidence,” Kurt said, not wanting to believe in something that would turn out to be a lie.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Blaine asked, upset that Kurt was holding back something so very important from him.

“I...” Kurt tried to say, but the tears were now stinging his eyes and he covered his face with his hands.

Blaine moved quickly to sit beside the boy, reaching around him to pull him close. He left kisses on his head, then lifted his chin so they could hear each other.

“How long has this been going on?” Blaine asked as his professional bedside manner took hold. 

“For a few weeks. My head hurts some days and then I think I can see these patterns – like rosy ink being poured over black velvet. Sometimes the inky patches are yellow or sort of a light blue. I thought it was because I wanted to see so badly that I made it up in my head,” Kurt said.

“I don't think you made it up, honey. It might be that the blood that was blocking the optic nerve might be dissipating. What can you see now?” Blaine asked, wishing with his whole being that he had a light to flash into Kurt's eye to see if his optic nerve was swollen. 

Kurt got a look of deep concentration on his face and stared at a space of blue sky. It was the only place devoid of clouds – and that, Blaine thought, was probably not a coincidence.

“It looks like sort of pinkish yellow? Just those inky splotches and a sort of lacy bit of darkness with the pink showing through? Does that even make sense?” Kurt asked, ducking his head down.

“Yes, it does. Kurt, I don't want to give you false hope, but I think you can handle the truth of it. It does sound as if your sight might be coming back, but slowly. You have to be extra careful not to look at the sun. I'll tie the blindfold back on if you want, but you have to be careful,” Blaine explained.

“So, you think I'll see again?” Kurt asked.

“I do, but the question is how much you'll be able to see. It might just be light and dark you know. Kurt, baby, I don't want to set you up for disappointment,” Blaine said, hugging the boy close.

“Even if its just that – light and dark – I will be happy,” Kurt said, then kissed Blaine. 

Living on the island by themselves had spoiled Blaine and Kurt to the point that they stopped several times a day to just kiss and cuddle, often leading to caresses and fondling and eventually to sex. The bottle of olive oil was eventually going to run out no matter how scrupulous they were with it and Blaine was trying to find a substitute, but so far he hadn't come up with anything.

 

The next evening the two were walking across the beach. It was low tide and Kurt was thinking of diving for scallops in one of the deep pools. They tried to rotate the few types of food, sometimes having clams and then fish for the next meal. Having to feed Dixon was a problem, but they always managed to skim enough tiny fish to satisfy the bird. He was much better, but would probably never fly again. Blaine had taken the canvas off when the bones knit, but the bird just stayed in camp most of the time, following Kurt around like a dog, begging for fish.

“How about lobster for dinner?” Kurt asked. It had been over a week since he'd dived for lobster. 

“Sure, that sounds great,” Blaine tried to sound cheerful. They were both so sick of their diet it was beginning to grate on their nerves, in spite of the fact that they knew how blessed they were to have any source of food at all. 

Kurt walked over to the pool, his hand on Blaine's arm for direction, and took off his clothes. If he had been shy to do this in the beginning, it was no longer a reason for blushing, neither of them thought much about showing their skin any more. Kurt slipped into the water, still feeling that apprehension every time he did it. It was scary to dive into water when you couldn't see where you were going. This particular tide pool was one they used a lot and as Kurt oriented himself, he felt along the rock shelves for some kind of shellfish.

What he didn't expect was the harpoon he stepped on while he was trying to find a foothold. The pain ran up his leg and caused him to take in a lungful of water, which caused him to panic and kick for the surface. He wasn't careful, had no time to feel his way and as he rose in the water, he hit his head hard against a rock. Kurt's body breached the water, his throat no longer trying to scream as the sheer panic that was crippling him died as he lost consciousness.

Lucky for Kurt, Blaine was there and saw the look on his face. He lunged out to grab his boyfriend, pulling him out of the water and lying him down on the warm sand. Blaine was close to panic himself, seeing Kurt unconscious with blood running down his face. He checked to be sure Kurt was breathing, turning him on his side as sea water gushed out of his nose and mouth, then checking again. Definite breath sounds and a strong pulse.

Blaine moved to stop the bleeding next, applying pressure to the gaping wound on his head. He had managed to stop the bleeding and get his shirt wrapped around Kurt's forehead. Now, to drag him all the way out of the pool. 

Blaine grabbed Kurt under his arms and began to haul his legs out of the tide pool, but is foot seemed to be caught. He walked back to the edge and looked into the clear water, seeing if his heel was maybe stuck between some rocks...

What was that? Blaine focused his eyes on Kurt's foot and it became too clear. He lifted the foot, setting it on the dry sand before dragging him the rest of the way out of the water. Blaine had been a trauma surgeon, he'd seen some of the worst the streets of New York had to offer. Not one of those horrific things had ever made him sick enough to actually vomit – until now. He knew it was because it was Kurt, the boy he loved so much, and he was back by Kurt's side in seconds.

The harpoon's sharp spike was going through the ball of his foot and came out the top. It didn't bleed very much, but Blaine knew that it would when he pulled the metal out. He was dizzy thinking of the mess that would make of Kurt's elegant foot. 

Right now he was assessing whether it was the shock of the harpoon in his foot or whether it was the wound on his head that was keeping Kurt from consciousness. He was breathing fine, his pulse was still strong – both things in his favor.

Blaine knew if he was going to do something, it had better be now while Kurt was unaware of it. He did not have any anesthetic for him, and removing that wicked spike was going to hurt.

Blaine sprinted back to the camp, grabbing the first aid kit and making it back before Kurt had opened an eye. It was lucky that it was a very small harpoon – it looked like it hadn't broken any of the tiny bones of Kurt's foot.

He worked quickly, pushing the harpoon the rest of the way through the foot, pulling against the hook would be much worse. He cleaned the wound as best as he could given the spring water and a little peroxide that was in the kit. There were sterile catgut and needles and Blaine placed a drain and sewed up the ragged tear. There wasn't much he could do after that, except hold Kurt's hand until he woke up. He prayed it wouldn't be too long.

 

“Auuuuughhhh,” came from Kurt and Blaine was next to him, trying to comfort his lover.

“Kurt, baby...its going to be okay, I promise. Do you know where you are?” Blaine asked, smoothing his fingers across Kurt's forehead and down his cheek. 

“Blaine?”

“Yes. You were in the tide pool, do you remember?”

“Ahh...yeah. I was searching for a lobster and put my arm in one of the crevices in the rock, but I was slipping. I tried to get a foothold and something bit me,” Kurt said. 

“It was a harpoon.”

“A harpoon bit me? Oh...someone shot me with a harpoon?” Kurt was dizzy and this made no sense to him. “Why would someone shoot me?” 

“No, baby, you didn't get shot. You stepped on the harpoon. I had to remove it and stitch the wound shut. If you're doing okay, I can give you something for the pain, but you were out for almost twenty minutes,” Blaine tried to explain.

“Oh...my head hurts and the patterns are different. Like, brighter or something,” Kurt said.

“Let's sit you up and see, okay?” Blaine said, helping Kurt to sit up. He looked closely at Kurt's eyes, but the pupils were the same size. They reacted when Blaine shaded them from the sunlight and he nodded to himself. 

“How bad is the pain, honey?”

“My head is aching and my foot is throbbing, but it isn't as bad as it was when the spar fell on me in the storm,” Kurt said.

“How are you with needles?” Blaine asked. Kurt's eyes got big, but he just nodded. “Are you allergic to anything, like penicillin?”

“Nope. Nothing that I know of, not even goldenrod,” Kurt said.

“Well, I'm going to give you some penicillin. There is some in the first aid kit and I don't want you to get an infection with that deep wound. Have you had a tetanus shot in the last ten years?”

“I have no idea. Do you have to have one to go to public school?” Kurt asked.

“Probably. We're going to keep it so clean that there won't be a chance of an infection. Now, I don't think I can get you as far as the shelter, so I'll get you above the high tide line, then go get some things for tonight. Maybe I can make something for you so you can get back to the shelter tomorrow.”

 

Kurt lay back on the sand and closed his eyes. Blaine was back in a few minutes and gave him a very painful injection in his butt cheek. He had brought some blankets and food with him, then went back for the water. 

Kurt glared at where he thought Blaine was standing.

“That hurt. I bet you enjoyed it, didn't you?” Kurt accused the doctor.

“Yes, baby, that's why I became a doctor – so I could stick needles in unsuspecting attractive men's buttocks,” Blaine said back playfully, rubbing the butt in question to try and make if feel better.

Kurt didn't eat much that night and he had a low grade fever by bedtime, so Blaine cuddled him close and held him all night. The boy woke up several times and Blaine gave him some of the pills that were in the medical kit, making Kurt sleepy.

 

The sun rose in the morning, hot and bright. Its rays woke Blaine from his sound sleep and he was able to examine Kurt's foot before the boy awoke. It was warm but not hot and there were no red streaks or pus forming – good news. Blaine heaved a sigh of relief. Things could have gone much worse. 

 

A few hours later they had eaten breakfast and Blaine had wrapped the wound on Kurt's foot. He was working out a way to make crutches because he didn't want the boy to step down on his foot for a few days. 

“I think I can carry you to the shelter, Kurt, then if you can stay off the foot for a few more...” Blaine started. He came to sit by Kurt with a bit of lunch, some pineapple and mango with clams. After lunch, Blaine was sitting close to Kurt, kissing him. They were hot and tired and needed to rest, so they were lying on the blanket. There was a bit of shade, some palms were growing close to the shore here, and it was good to be on the beach with an ocean breeze blowing restlessly across the sand.

 

The next day Kurt woke up, the colors he'd seen were gone: he was blind once again. 

 

“Its okay, Kurt. The blood clot must have shifted again. It might take a few weeks to dissipate, don't give up hope. I won't,” Blaine crooned into Kurt's ear as he dried his boyfriend's tears. 

“It isn't fair,” Kurt was a mess of soggy sadness, holding on to Blaine like he was Kurt's lifeline.

Blaine just held him close, stroking over his hair and kissing his face. If there was a blood clot shifting near Kurt's optic nerve, there was a chance of Kurt having a stroke. Blaine was almost paralyzed with fear over that – but he also knew that worrying would not help either of them. He had to accept that it might happen and try to keep it from his mind. He blinked back the tears that threatened and coughed to clear his throat.

“You're going to be fine, sweetheart. I'll take care of you, I promise,” Blaine said. He was feeling to see if Kurt had a fever. He was unusually warm, but not firecracker hot. The doctor had been on the lookout for anything that resembled the signs of tetanus: muscle spasms, irritability, fever. It wasn't likely that Kurt could get tetanus, but it would be best to keep on top of it. 

Kurt stopped crying, but his mood didn't change much. Blaine tried to distract him with kisses and that worked better, leading to cuddling and then to touching.

“Blaine....” Kurt sighed, his hand on Blaine's stomach. He was hard and needed Blaine more than he ever had before, begging for him to do _something_ to make it better.

“Come here, baby...” Blaine said, helping Kurt remove the few clothes he was wearing and lie down on the blanket. He ran his hands over Kurt's skin, helping him to relax, kissing him until he'd forgotten his disappointment over his sight.

“Blaine...please, Blaine...make love to me,” Kurt asked, reaching out to stroke Blaine's cock.

“Okay, baby...okay.” Blaine held Kurt tenderly, moving his hands slowly to prepare him and then when Kurt was keening and begging, Blaine slipped into him and they rode the waves together.

It was a long time before Blaine fell asleep that night, wondering how long it was going to take for them to be found.

 

 

 

* * *

 

“Carole, I'm going to sail down past Martinique today. The wind is right and it just looks like a good day for a longer trip. Do you want to go?” Milo asked.

“Sure, Dad. Anyone else going?” she asked, hoping Burt would join them.

“Yeah, Finn and Burt. I asked your mum, but she's playing cards at the club this morning, so I guess it's just the four of us. I'll be ready to go in half an hour, okay?” he said and Carole grinned.

 

On the ocean, the water was the perfect shade of aquamarine, the clouds puffy and white. Burt was tired from being up late the night before, but could not turn down another chance to search for Kurt. He was sitting on the deck, going over a map with Carole as they checked off the places they had already looked.

“Dad, are we going to the atolls west or east of Martinique?” she called.

“East, we have been west a few weeks ago,” he said. He had to admit that he was growing to think this was all just a wild goose chase, but Carole had asked him to keep trying for a while. Milo would do just about anything for his daughter.

As the yacht came around a spit of land, there was another atoll in the far distance. It was just like a hundred others they had sailed past, but Burt and Finn looked along the beach just the same.

“Burt, do you see that?” Finn asked, pointing to the small islet. “It looks like a sort of...structure?”

Burt rushed to the rail, telescope in hand.

“Yeah, that isn't natural I don't think. Maybe we should check it out?”

Finn agreed and got the little skiff ready. The yacht took too much water, so when they saw something out of the ordinary, they anchored the large boat and launched the skiff. Finn got in, taking the oars and rowed towards the tiny beach. He got out and waved at his grandfather and Burt, pointing to where he was going to look.

* * *

  


 

“Do you hear something?” Blaine asked, turning his head to hear better.

“Like what?” Kurt asked.

“A voice?” Blaine said, moving to the top of a rocky pile. “I can hear somebody calling, I think!”

Kurt started yelling, Blaine joining in. Blaine ran down the beach to the pile of greasy sea-grape to light it on fire. Soon billows of black smoke were filling the air. Both Kurt and Blaine were coughing, moving away from the drifting smoke and shouting. Dixon was following Kurt like a puppy, staying close to the person he trusted.

On the water, Milo saw the smoke and sailed the boat closer to the shore, looking to see where Finn had gone. He could see the skiff in the sand, but no sign of his grandson. Burt was leaning over the rail, watching the smoke and so excited he could hardly contain himself.

“It has to be Kurt!”

Carole stepped closer, taking Burt's hand. She hoped it was Kurt, but there were still seven people missing and it might not even be a victim of the storm. She knew how it was to wait, wondering if the next minute would bring the good news they had waited so long for.

 

Finn walked along the shore for a while, but he thought he heard someone yelling and went towards the noise. He was struggling to get through the jungle, pushing aside the greenery. Finally he could hear the shouting more clearly, could make out the voices calling. 

“Here we are! We need help!”

Finn shouted back, “I'm here, I have a boat...where are you?”

He could see a big cloud of black smoke and followed it, coming out of the trees to see two men standing on the sand. Well, one was standing, but the other one looked as if he couldn't stand and was leaning against the man with curly hair.

“Kurt?” Finn asked. “Kurt Hummel?”

“Yes! I'm Kurt...who are you?” he asked, not recognizing the voice. In his excitement he stepped forward, lost his balance as Blaine put his arms around him, keeping the younger man upright.

“I'm Finn Hudson. I'm a friend of your dad's. Your dad's name is Burt, right?”

“Yes...that's my dad. Where is he? Is he with you?” Kurt practically screamed.

“Calm down, baby,” Blaine said, “He looks like he's alone.”

Kurt wilted a bit, but held on to Blaine, trembling all over.

“Ah, he's in the yacht. My grandpa, Milo Forrester, owns the yacht and he's been helping your dad look for you,” Finn explained. He looked at the skinny boy with freckles and long reddish brown hair. He looked sick, so thin and he had a bandage wrapped around his foot.

“Were you on the ship, too?” Finn asked, shifting his gaze to Blaine.

“No, a different ship, but I got thrown overboard in the same storm. I'm Blaine.”

Finn shook his hand and turned back to Kurt.

“We need to go back to the beach where I left the skiff. Do you need help?” Finn asked, seeing the boy was not able to walk by himself. Before Kurt could even answer, Finn picked him up and Kurt's arms flailed out as he panicked. He screamed and flailed until Blaine came rushing forward – taking Kurt into his own arms and setting him down on the soft sand.

“Hey, Kurt. You're okay, baby. Here, concentrate on me,” Blaine cooed, holding Kurt's face and rubbing his cheek against the frightened boy's face.

“I'm sorry...” Kurt whispered. “Blaine...don't leave me. Please don't leave me.”

Finn just stood there, shocked at the other boy's reaction to him.

“Hey, man, I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw that you can't walk and....” Finn just stood staring, trying to think of how to get Kurt to the skiff. He had to get him back to his father. Burt was going to be over the moon when he saw Kurt. 

“Kurt, are you okay now?” Blaine asked, still holding his boyfriend.

“Yeah,” Kurt answered, holding Blaine with a crushing force.

“Let your arms relax, baby. This man is going to carry you, but I am going to be right beside you all the time. I promise. You can hold your hand, okay?” Blaine explained. Kurt nodded and allowed Finn to pick him up once more. This must be a very large man, Kurt thought, though he sounded young.

Blaine walked close to the young giant, watching as he walked back through the trees to the small beach to the north. The pelican followed close behind. They could see a large boat in the harbor and a small skiff beached among some trees. Finn set Kurt down and Blaine rushed over, keeping an eye on the boy.

Finn motioned for Blaine to follow and he stepped a ways away.

“What's wrong with him?” Finn asked. “Why is he acting so strange?”

“He can't see. He was hit on his head in the boat wreck and he's just scared. He'll be okay if I can stay next to him,” Blaine explained and Finn nodded. Blaine rushed back to Kurt's side.

“Kurt, are you okay to sit in the skiff?” Finn asked. Burt's son looked like he couldn't even sit up for more than a few minutes.

“Yes,” he said, in some sort of shock thinking that all these months of being stranded were coming to an end. “But I have to have Blaine with me. I can't go without him...” Kurt sounded on the edge of panic, throwing his head around, trying to hear where Blaine was standing. He held out his arms with expectation and Blaine came to hold him.

“Are you...?” Finn started to ask, the knowledge of what was wrong with Kurt making him a little apprehesive. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, burying his face in Blaine's neck for security. He wanted to be taken to his dad, but he was afraid this was all a dream.

“I'm sorry, dude, about the accident and you being blind. I bet my grandparents can find somebody to help,” he said, pulling the skiff from its place in the brush. “Get in, I can row us all back,” he said, helping Blaine get Kurt settled. Dixon screamed, very nervous of this new person and not wanting to be left behind.

“Can we bring Dixon?” asked Kurt, trying to face the new man.

“Is that the pelican?” Finn asked, watching the poor bird pace back and forth.

“Yeah, we rescued him. He can't fly or swim, so he'll die if we leave him behind,” Kurt explained.

“Well, sure. I guess. Can you get him in the skiff?” Finn asked. 

Blaine threw his shirt over the bird's body to stop him from flapping his good wing, then placed him in the skiff. 

“Is there anything else you need to take?” Finn asked. He'd assumed these two were the only inhabitants of the tiny atoll.

“No, nothing. We were here alone and there's nothing but a few things we found on the ship...and a lot of coconuts,” Blaine giggled, putting his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's arm went around him instinctively and he kissed Blaine's hair. He hoped with all of his might that things would end up with not losing Blaine. He could give up his sight, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye to this man.

 

 

“The water looks calm, but hold on. Swells can come up without warning,” Finn warned, pushing the little boat into the bay.

 

 

* * *

On the deck of the yacht, Burt was leaning over, his eyes glued to the binoculars.

“There's someone in the skiff with Finn,” he said, scared to say that it might be Kurt. He had put forth a brave front, but he was still worried in his heart that Kurt was gone.


	12. Back In Your Arms

[   
](http://www.scarvesandcoffee.net/viewstory.php?sid=9859&chapter=12&textsize=1)

It took _forever_ for Finn to row across the bay, Burt watching as the skiff and its passengers got closer. He could see Finn facing him and two others, one had Kurt's glossy chestnut hair, although it was very long and shaggy. Carole stood with Burt, her hand on his back as they watched the progress of the skiff across the water. She could feel Burt's anxiety and kissed his cheek to let him know she was there for him. Burt was grateful that he had Carole to help him hold on for the past weeks, and he was really grateful she was here now to support him; without her, this would be so much more stressful. He leaned back and kissed her soft lips, pulling back to smile at her pretty face.

“Thank you, Carole. Just....thank you for everything.”

She squeezed his hand and let go as the boat pulled up beside the yacht. Milo helped tie the skiff to the rail, then assisted the men onto the deck. Finn handed Kurt up to his grandfather, who passed him on to Burt's waiting arms, then helped Blaine. It was a bit more work to catch the pelican, but he was deposited on the deck without incident and Finn brought up the end after securing the skiff to the side of the yacht.

Burt picked Kurt up, spinning him in circles as he kissed his face. He was trembling with excitement and his hands shook as he gripped Kurt tighter. He was never letting go of his son, ever again. 

Kurt was holding on for dear life. Disoriented from the spinning, he put his head on his dad's chest to stop the giddyness in his stomach. 

Burt's eyes were closed, hugging Kurt as close as he could. “Kurt, I never gave up hope....”

He set the boy down, finally looking at him. Kurt was a little wobbly on his one leg and Blaine had moved close to help steady him, his arm around Kurt's waist. Burt looked at Kurt, noting his skinny appearance. He was dressed in rags, barely covering his skin – which was golden brown with freckles and his hair a mess: tangled, sun-bleached, and shaggy. He was so skinny, it hurt Burt's heart and there were bandages on his foot and his head.

“Kurt....”

“Dad, I knew we'd be together again, I knew you would find me. Blaine took such good care of me and...” Kurt stopped, reaching to hug his father tighter. His emotions were in a whirl, he subconsciously wondered if his father would see the difference in him – if he would know what Kurt had been through just by looking at him. Would he be able to tell that Kurt had been so scared almost every day for months? Would he be able to taste the loneliness that sought to bring him to his knees until Blaine saved him from that? Would his dad know he'd given his heart and his body to Blaine? In the end, Kurt gave up trying to second guess what his father might know by intuition and to just revel in the sheer joy of knowing he was with his father once again.

“Daddy, I never lost faith. Never. I might have been sad some days, or frustrated, but I never lost hope.” Kurt didn't know why, but it was important for his dad to understand that.

“I know, Kurt,” Burt said, looking closely but finding nothing wrong. Something was not quite right, though, and Burt was trying to figure out what it was. There was nothing except Kurt's inability to make eye contact.

“What's wrong with your eyes, Kurt?” Burt finally asked as Kurt ducked his head one too many times and looked past his father's face.

“Ah...I was hit on the head with a spar when I got into the Lila Mae's lifeboat. Did they make it? Anyone from that boat?” he asked. He'd been worrying about them for months.

“Yes, they all made it. There was another lifeboat. A few of the men saw your boat floating away, but that was the last anyone saw of you. Now tell me about your eyes,” Burt's voice sounding more and more upset. He waved his hand in front of Kurt's face and looked stunned when Kurt didn't react.

“Mr. Hummel, he's blind,” Blaine said softly, taking Kurt in his arms when the boy turned to him.

“Who is this?” Burt asked, turning to look at the man who was holding his son way too close for Burt's peace of mind.

  
“This is Blaine,” Kurt said, gripping his hand even tighter.

Burt just stood and stared at the man who was obviously much older than Kurt, even if he was shorter.

“I pulled Blaine out of the ocean...he had fallen off of a ferry in the storm. Then by the time we got to the atoll, I couldn't see any more. Blaine thinks it's a blocked nerve,” Kurt said, then lowered his voice that was now full of emotion. “He saved my life...he's been looking out for me all this time, Dad.”

“Well, then he has my thanks...I owe you everything, Blaine. Thank you for keeping Kurt safe for me,” Burt said, somewhat at a loss for words as he glared at the hand holding Kurt's so tightly.

“We saved each other, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine said quietly. Kurt searched for Blaine's arm, having felt the doctor back away a little with Burt's stern voice. Kurt needed his reassurance in this storm of emotions that were so overwhelming. Blaine recognized the beginnings of a panic attack and put his arms around Kurt and the boy snuggled into his neck.

“Kurt?” Burt said, a question in his voice.

“Dad, Blaine and I....he took care of me,” Kurt said.

Burt just stood there, words not coming, his mind in a whirl. He found Kurt, against everything everyone told him, he found his son. But Kurt was blind and....who was this man that dared to put his arms around Burt's son?

 

“Burt, I think we need to let them come down to the cabin. Kurt needs to lie down I think,” Carole said gently. She could see the shock in Burt's face and imagined this boyfriend was new to Burt, and the boy was practically falling down. Being a nurse and knowing Kurt's story, Carole could see the beginnings of a panic attack and moved by instinct to prevent it. 

“Yes...of course. Here,” Burt said, pulling his son away from Blaine's arms, then picking Kurt up and taking him down to the cabin and put him on the bed there. Blaine never left his side, moving close and holding Kurt's hand tightly, and as far as Burt could see, Kurt was not going to let go any time soon.

 

 

* * *

 

Six days later, Kurt was sitting on the side of the bed in Milo and Rebecca's house. The couple had insisted the castaways stay there for the time being while everything calmed down. 

Blaine and Kurt had both been taken to the hospital where they were treated for malnourishment and Kurt had minor surgery on his foot to repair the muscles that were damaged by the harpoon. He was walking with a protective boot and had an appointment to see an eye specialist in the next week. 

Wes had contacted Cooper, who flew down to St Thomas from Chicago the next day, overjoyed to hear his beloved brother was still among the living. Wes had been several times to visit his friend and asked when Blaine was coming back to live in his house, but Kurt was not letting Blaine go. He spent most days practically joined at the hip with Blaine, leaving Burt struggling to accept this new relationship. Today Blaine and Cooper were at lunch, Kurt had begged off saying he was tired, but the truth was he needed to talk to his dad.

“Dad, are you...are you okay with Blaine and me?” he asked after first making sure they were alone in the room.

“Kurt, I'm thankful he saved your life and that he took care of you for the last five months. Do you know how old he is?” Burt asked.

“Yes. He's ten years older than I am....but age is just a number, Dad. I love Blaine. I don't think its just because we spent that time alone on the island, either. I would have fallen in love with him no matter what. Why? Are you going to split us apart?” Kurt sounded on the edge of hysteria.

“Calm down, buddy. No, I'm not going to split you up. I understand that you're attached to him. You know we're going to have to go home soon, though, don't you?” Burt asked, reaching out to hold his son's hand. Burt was still trying to get used to having Kurt home again and now he needed a way to connect that didn't involve looking in Kurt's eyes. Kurt held his hand tightly, apparently comfortable with using touch instead of sight now.

“Dad, I don't know right now what I plan to do. I want to get over this eye problem before I decide the next step, and I need Blaine here with me to do that. I don't think you understand....I mean, Mom has been gone a long time. Do you remember the feeling you got when you had been together for five months?”

“Yes, I do. I was so in love with her, every day was good. But I do need to tell you something, kiddo. You might not be the only one that might be falling in love,” Burt confessed.

“What? You? Who?” Kurt blurted out, sitting forward to take a deeper breath of air.

“Maybe.”

“No kidding, Dad, who is it? Can I meet her?”

“You already have,” Burt said. There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Kurt called, expecting Blaine.

“I hope I'm not disturbing you, but lunch is ready,” Carole's voice came from the doorway. Burt's hand jerked and Kurt looked towards where he thought his dad was sitting. 

“We'll be right out, thank you, Carole,” Burt said and Kurt could hear it in his voice. When the door closed, he took his dad's hand.

“Her?” he asked and Burt coughed.

“Ah....”

“It is her! Oh, Dad, that's wonderful. Have you been on a date? Have you kissed her?” he squealed.

“That, kid, is none of your business. And yes, it's her,” Burt blushed.

“Well, that should keep you occupied, maybe I can find some time alone with Blaine...” Kurt wished out loud. Burt coughed and stood up, helping Kurt to find his cane before going to the patio for lunch.

* * *

  


Later when Blaine was back from his lunch with his brother, he sought out Kurt and they had been sitting on the swing on the patio to catch some island breezes. 

“Blaine...what are your plans?” Kurt asked as they walked down the stairs to take a stroll down the beach, Kurt holding on to Blaine's guiding arm, his foot still recovering from the harpoon wound.

“You mean tonight?” he asked.

“No...long term I guess. I mean, well, we were so close on the island, but I guess that was just because there wasn't anyone else for you and....” Kurt's voice got softer and faded.

Blaine stopped walking and turned to take Kurt in his arms.

“Kurt, I meant every word I said. I want you. Whether it's on a deserted atoll or in New York City – _you_ are the one I want. You and _only you_ ,” he repeated, pulling Kurt close and kissing him. Kurt was startled. He had been thinking this would be goodbye.

“Really?” he asked, not believing that he might get what his heart wanted.

“Yes, baby. I want you. I know we're going to have to convince your dad, but we can do that. We lived through a hurricane and five months on that atoll. I know we can take the next storm, as long as we do it together, even if its name is 'Hurricane Burt',” he promised.

“Did I mention to you that I love you?” Kurt asked, leaning forward to kiss Blaine once again. 

 

 

* * *

 

The next week, Blaine and Burt took Kurt to the eye specialist. After a thorough examination, the doctor concurred with Blaine that it was a blood clot blocking the optic nerve. Kurt went in to the hospital the next day for surgery. Blaine and Burt walked the halls as a two hour operation turned into a four hour wait.

“What could be going on in there? I thought Dr. Avon said it was two hours,” Burt said for the fourth time.

“Things can take longer than we think, Burt. I will call to see how its going, okay?” He offered, walking to the nurse's desk to place the call to the operating room. He was on for a few minutes, arguing and then a concerned look crossed his face before he hung up.

“Well?” Burt was right there, his face twisted with worry wrinkles as he waited for Blaine to explain.

“They got the clot, but there was more damage than they thought. He found three clots and removed all of them, which took time. Dr. Avon's just closing now. We can go see Kurt in a few minutes. They usually don't let the family back there until the patient is awake, but I have special pull here,” Blaine winked at Burt.

True to his word, the nurse came to get them twenty minutes later and they were soon holding Kurt's hands. He was still asleep, his face in a peaceful repose on the white cotton pillowcase.

“He looks like an angel,” Blaine said, leaning to kiss his cheek.

“Like when he was a little boy,” Burt added. 

They sat near Kurt, waiting for him to open his eyes. There was a light bandage across his eyes so the first view wouldn't overwhelm him.

“So, you and my son...what do you see happening? Because this man that I found on that island is not the boy that left me at the hospital five months ago,” Burt said, sounding resigned.

“He spoke with you – about us?” Blaine asked, not sure how much Kurt had told his dad.

“Yeah, we've had a few talks. He says you two....are...ah...together, I think is the way he put it. Well, what does that mean to you?” Burt turned the question back to Blaine.

“I love him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. We talked since we got back and he still feels the same way. So do I. I want him to finish his last year of high school, then he can go to college. I can pay for that, no problem. I want him to have every experience he can while he's young, but he wants to get married,” Blaine said, searching Burt's face for some clue as to what he thought about this.

“He told me. I know he's still my boy, but he's so close to being his own man now, I won't take his ability to make his own decisions away from him. I can't. Even though he hasn't been able to see you, his face is still turned towards you whenever you're in the same room. He smiles, and that is something I haven't seen a lot of in the past few years. I think this might work out, and if it doesn't, I'll break your neck for you,” Burt said calmly.

“No...Da...Dad, I lov-v-ve h-h-h-im,” came Kurt's shaky voice from the bed.

“Kurt?” Burt said, turning to look at his son. Blaine forced himself to sit still and let Burt have this. “How are you? Does it hurt?”

“A little...” Kurt got out. The nurse was there with a syringe of pain medicine, injecting it into the IV tubing. Kurt visibly relaxed as it hit his veins.

“Better, hon?” the nurse asked.

“Yeaaah-h-h,” Kurt tried to say. “Hey, when do I g-g-get r-r-rid of this bandage?”

“When you're all the way awake, Kurt,” said the surgeon, walking in the door and coming over to the bed to speak with Burt and Blaine.

“It was a bit more complicated than I had bargained for, but we got all four clots. I expect Kurt will be able to see when he wakes up, the largest one isn't blocking the nerve any more. Now, just sit with him and I'll be back in a short while to check on him.”

“Blaine...” Kurt whined and his boyfriend came close, leaving another kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, baby,” he soothed, smiling at Kurt and stroking his cheek. 

Burt sat back down. He was never going to get over another man calling his son 'baby'. 

 

An hour later, Kurt was in his private room. Blaine and Burt sat quietly, one on each side of his bed, taking turns holding Kurt's hand or getting him sips of water. 

Dr. Avon walked in, a smile on his lips as he stepped over to Kurt's side. He listened to his heart and breathing, looked over his chart and finally spoke.

“Everything is looking well, Kurt. How do you feel?”

“Okay. My head hurts, but not as bad as it did earlier,” Kurt said.

“You need to remember to push the button on the pain medicine pump. If you push it, you get a dose of the morphine and it will help the pain. If you wait until its excruciating, you end up using more medication than if you just got a dose when the pain starts. Understand?” Dr. Avon explained. Kurt blushed, Blaine had explained it to him already.

“Now, how would you like to lose those bandages?”

Kurt grinned. “You have no idea.”

Kurt reached out to both his father and Blaine, so both came to hold his hands while the doctor snipped off the bandage.

“Now, Kurt, you haven't had sight for five months, so at first it may seem strange to you. You might not be able to tolerate light very well and the objects may seem fuzzy. Your sight will improve as time goes by and I expect it will be fine by the end of the week. I am going to give you a blindfold that you can wear if your head or eyes hurt. Now, I'm going to remove the last of the padding. The blinds are closed on the window to keep out most of the light, so expect it to be dim at first. Here we go, close your eyes,” Dr. Avon warned. He unwrapped the last of the padding. 

Kurt sat with his eyes closed for a moment and when the surgeon told him to, he opened them. He looked around a little, blinking and squeezing his eyes shut several times. Burt and Blaine were holding their breath. Kurt opened his eyes all the way and saw his dad's face. Tears gathered as Kurt reached to hug his dad, trying in vain not to cry. Burt wiped the tears from his cheeks with a tissue the doctor handed him.

“Oh, Dad....Dad...” Kurt said, touching his cheek to make sure this was real. 

“Kurt, can you see me?” Burt asked.

“Yes. You're kind of blurry, but I know its you,” he said. “Blaine?”

“I'm over here,” Blaine piped up from behind the privacy curtain that surrounded the bed. “I didn't want to interfere with your reunion with your dad,” he said and Kurt giggled.

“Come here, I need to see those curls!” Kurt said, reaching out to his boyfriend. “Oh...” he gasped, looking at Blaine for the first time. “Blaine? You're gorgeous!”

“Gee, I thought you knew that already,” Blaine kidded to get over the funny feeling that Kurt could not possibly be seeing him clearly if he thought that.

“Blaine...come closer, I want to see your eyes,” Kurt asked, staring at the man coming closer to him. Burt and Dr. Avon pulled back so Kurt could look at the man he'd spent five months with but never saw. “Blaine, your eyes are beautiful.”

Dr. Avon waited a few minutes, then interrupted.

“Okay, I need to look in your eyes, Kurt. If I may,” he said, waiting for Blaine to back up. He brought out an instrument and looked into both of Kurt's eyes, then checked the incision and reapplied a smaller bandage to that area.

“You are doing fine. If you feel up to it and your pain is at a level that pills will work, then you can go home this afternoon. I think I'm leaving you in good hands, right, Blaine?”

“Yes, sir. I think I can look after him. What about it, Kurt? Are you up to a car ride back to Milo and Rebecca's?” Blaine asked.

“I sure am. Thank you Dr. Avon,” Kurt said, looking at the doctor and smiling.

“You can leave the blindfold off if you are inside and have the drapes pulled closed. Start adding sunshine, whether from a covered porch or under an umbrella, at no more than an hour a day at ten minute intervals and increase by another half hour per day for a week. I'll see you then and we can talk about going outside in the sunshine. Sound like a plan, young man?” Dr. Avon asked.

“Yes, sir. So, I have to wear the blindfold on the way home today, right?” Kurt sighed.

“Yes. No cheating, you don't want to push too soon and damage your eyes. I'll see you on the twelfth. Call me if you have any questions or concerns, okay pal?”

“Okay,” Kurt agreed, looking from Blaine to Burt and back again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, I'm inside, can I take the blindfold off now?” Kurt rushed out, anxious to see Blaine's face again. 

“Yes. You're in the bedroom. I'll get the curtains closed and Blaine will be in shortly. Kurt, its so good to have you here,” Burt said to his son. Kurt turned to look at his father's face.

“Dad, I never thought I'd see your face again. I'm so happy - -you have no idea,” Kurt said, hugging his father tightly. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, kiddo. I'm so glad the surgery went so well,” Burt whispered, holding Kurt close. “Now, I'm going to go play a hand of cards with Carole and her folks, you and Blaine can have some time alone.”

“Thanks, Dad. You really do understand me, and I appreciate it.”

 

A few minutes later, Blaine walked into the bedroom after knocking.

“Hey, baby. How is the pain level?” he asked.

“Hardly there. Its more annoying than distracting, you know?” Kurt described his pain.

“Good. Let me see the incision,” he reached up to remove the dressing.  
“No. You are my boyfriend and we have more to talk about than my incision. Dr. Avon already saw it today. Quit being my mother hen and kiss me instead,” Kurt whined.

“Okay. Can I sit here?” Blaine asked, indicating the bed beside Kurt.

“Come here,” Kurt answered, reaching out his arms.

Blaine took off his sandals and slid under the covers next to Kurt. He'd locked the door, just in case, because he really just wanted to have time to kiss his boyfriend. Since they had been back to civilization he found himself wishing he could find ten minutes to just hold Kurt close, to kiss and snuggle him like they had on the island. If he were true to himself, he would also admit that he missed the sex, too. Having access to Kurt's loving arms all day every day was very different to being in a house with seven people, no matter how large said house is. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Kurt said, leaning against Blaine's chest as the man stroked his fingers through Kurt's hair very gently.

“Nothing...just thinking about what we would be doing if we were back on the atoll,” Blaine said, looking into Kurt's blue eyes. Kurt looked back and it was sending a tingling shot of electricity down Blaine's spine. He loved Kurt's eyes, how they took on the color of the ocean: light blue like the summer sky, darker and stormy when Kurt was aroused. He wondered if they would be different now that Kurt could see.

Kurt was staring at Blaine's face, especially his eyes.

“Blaine, you said your eyes were hazel, but they are like topaz and toffee, coffee and moss...so many colors all at once that change like a kaleidoscope. They are so amazing,” Kurt said, mesmerized by the way Blaine looked back at him, heartwarming and beautiful. “Just one more thing to love about you,” Kurt sighed, laying his head back on the pillow.

“As for what we might be doing on the island? Probably bringing the day's catch back to the shelter, then sitting on the log – feeding the tiny fishes to Dixon. Oh, I forgot to ask, where is he now?”

“I took him to a seabird rescue. They said he will probably never fly again, so he can't be released to the wild. They didn't know how he got here in the first place. White pelicans are almost never seen south of the Gulf of Mexico. He must have gotten lost, then got caught in the storm. He probably got caught in the net looking for food,” Blaine told him.

“Milo was talking about adopting the old fella, letting him stay around here, taking him on his boat and everything. He's waiting to hear from the authorities,” Blaine said, a smile on his lips. His beautiful, pink, lickable lips. Kurt was overcome with a desire to feel those lips on his own and leaned forward, his hands finding their way into the mop of silky curls as he pressed his lips to Blaine's mouth.

“Mmmmm,” Blaine hummed in contentment, kissing back for a while as they eased into making out just like they had done on the island.

“I love kissing you, baby,” Blaine said quietly into Kurt's ear, then started kissing the place that drove Kurt wild just behind his ear on his neck. Blaine took full advantage, kissing tender flesh and then sucking lightly. Kurt wriggled in place, his arms tightening as Blaine licked the place a little more.

“You know, Blaine - - I have never seen your body,” Kurt whispered to his boyfriend and Blaine had to palm his lap, the news making its way into his bloodstream and making his cock very interested.

Kurt could not help his hands sneaking under Blaine's shirt to caress his taut stomach muscles and up to stroke over his chest, slowing down by Blaine's nipples and circling them with his thumbs. He was rewarded with a moan from Blaine and leaned forward to kiss him again.

Blaine was looking at Kurt with soft eyes, thinking of what he looked like naked and in the sunshine of the atoll. Kurt was amazing no matter where he was, but lying on a blanket dressed in nothing but a few splotches of sunlight under the tropical trees....well, that was a sight to behold. Blaine felt himself getting harder at the thought of how they had whiled away so many hours when they were alone on the island, but he didn't want to go through with the seduction here in Milo's house, with Kurt's dad just a few rooms away down the hall.

He kissed Kurt again, feeling the boy's own erection between them. It was not going to work, Blaine thought, but he was helpless to stop his boyfriend and dropped down a hand to trace Kurt's bar of steel through his yoga pants. 

“Yes, Blaine....I've missed this so much,” Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear, making him just that much harder as he thought about the days of solitude to do whatever they wanted. He needed freedom, he just wasn't sure how to get it.

Slowly as sea anemones, Kurt took off all of Blaine's clothing. With each bit of revealed skin, Kurt would smile and try to commit it to memory – touching, tasting, lining up his memory of touching with this new ability to see Blaine. He thought he could never get tired of seeing his lover's golden skin as it moved under his fingers. He ran his hand through Blaine's silky curls, cut short now but still soft and springy. Best of all were those eyes; Kurt could spend hours just gazing into Blaine's beautiful eyes.

“I like the way you look,” Kurt whispered, kissing Blaine once more.

“Thank you, baby. I like the way you look, too,” Blaine whispered back, then there was no more talking as they settled under the sheets to hold each other.


	13. Alone or Together

Blaine and Kurt had been lying in Kurt's bed at Milo and Rebecca's house for half an hour. It had been difficult because the two missed having just themselves to worry about, to care about, to try and please. Back in civilization, there were too many rules and too many people trying to pull them in different places. It felt as if they had been torn apart, told they were not compatible. Of course Blaine and Kurt didn't agree with any of that claptrap, but they had to try and appear correct. This was turning into a nightmare. 

  


 

  


“Blaine, can we...I don't know, ah...do something? I miss your body, I miss touching you, I miss tasting you, I miss _you_. Can we please – damn it, I don't know,” Kurt said, rambling and not making the best sense.

  


“Baby, you can touch me any time you want. Well, except in front of your father because I don't want to die,” Blaine said, only half kidding.

  


Kurt laughed, but he understood. His dad was over protective and since he had been missing for five months, Burt had become even more protective of him. He couldn't even go down the little street to the ice cream parlor without asking permission from his dad.

  


“The bedroom door is locked, we can touch right now,” Kurt said, but they both knew it would have to be something that wouldn't make noise and that ruled out most love-making.

  


“My friend, Wes, has been asking me to move back in to his house with him. If I did that, we would definitely have some privacy. Wes is a workaholic and spends all his time at the hospital. I think that might be our best bet. What do you think your dad would say to that?” Blaine asked. He was touching Kurt's bare stomach, tracing little patterns across the pale skin and stopping to leave a kiss there every once in a while. Kurt giggled when it tickled, which was often. It was just a silly thing they had done on the island and usually led to more touching, more kisses, and less giggling. Kurt leaned forward and kissed Blaine's lips. It was just gentle, a brush of warm skin but enough for Blaine to want more.

  


“Kurt, I miss you so much. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and we both know I can't do that to my best ability here with all these people around. I'll ask Wes, then maybe I can convince Burt to let you come over to stay with me for a few days to let you rest away from all this noise and good intentions,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt for approval of his plan.

  


 

  


“I love it. I can't travel as far as Lima right now, not for a few weeks until my incision is healed,” Kurt said, absently rubbing at the place where the bandage itched.

  


“Hey, leave it alone, Kurt. Irritating the incision won't help it to heal,” Blaine admonished, then took both of Kurt's hands in his as the boy started rubbing at the healing wound on his foot.

  


“I just turned into a clumsy oaf on the island, didn't I?” Kurt moaned. He was healing from numerous incidents all caused by his falling, tripping, or inability to see where he was going. He would probably carry the scars of the harpoon wound, the burn from the coal, and a half-dozen other things that had happened.

  


“Kurt, it had nothing to do with you being graceful, you were learning to navigate without your sight. Nobody could have done better given the environment. Be proud of what you were able to accomplish in such a short amount of time. Who else would be brave enough to dive into a pool without their sight?” Blaine said, leaned closer to kiss Kurt's lips. “Now, what were you saying about traveling?”

  


“I don't know...I have a few ideas, but I'm not sure if they have any merit. Can I bounce them off of you?” Kurt asked, anxious to have someone listen. This limbo was making him nervous. Even if it meant he had to go back to Lima for a short time, Kurt wanted it all to be settled so he knew where he stood.

  


“Of course. I have some ideas of my own, but I'm not sure if you will approve. Let's hear yours first.”

  


“Were you serious when you told me you loved me, or was that just because we were all alone for so long?” Kurt asked, pulling Blaine close so he could judge his truthfulness by looking in Blaine's eyes. 

  


Blaine looked deep into Kurt's cornflower blue eyes, steady and faithful.

  


“Kurt, I am beyond serious when I tell you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Only you. I believe I've found the answer to every question I've ever asked, the realization to every dream I've ever dreamed. I love you beyond measure, and I hope you feel the same way. I'm ready to do anything, _**anything**_ if it means I get you. Does that answer your question?” 

  


Kurt could see the truth in Blaine's eyes and it brought tears to his own. He never dared to hope he could have someone as amazing, as perfect, as Blaine Anderson.

  


“Yes, it does. I was thinking...if you are working at the hospital here, we could get an apartment and I could finish high school here in St Thomas. I love it here, and with my grades I don't think I would have much trouble getting into a school,” Kurt said to start. “I was gone for so long, I'll probably have to make up at least a semester of school now before I can graduate.

  


“I'd miss my dad, but I have to leave him next year to go to college anyway. Maybe we could visit him a few times during school breaks? I would get a job so I could pay my own way of course,” Kurt said, his nerves showing through in his voice.

  


“Oh, baby. You wouldn't have to get a job. I have money. I'm one of those snobby trust-fund babies, you know,” Blaine said with a silly smile. “Do you think your dad would let you do that?”

  


“Not in a million years,” sighed Kurt.

  


“Well, I can move to Ohio. I'm not tied down here and I'd be closer to my brother in Chicago. Its only for one year, I wouldn't mind. Then we can go to New York together. You could go to that college where you got the scholarship. I could work in one of the hospitals for a few years...then who knows, we could move back here,” Blaine suggested. He loved that Kurt's eyes lit up at the prospect of him moving to Ohio just to be with him.

  


“Really, Ohio isn't that bad,” Kurt said, trying to sound convincing.

  


Blaine rolled his eyes.

  


“Well, don't start lying to me, my dear. I know better,” he said, giving Kurt a hard look and shaking his head a little.

  


“Okay...but how do you know Ohio isn't a glorious paradise?” Kurt teased.

  


“It would become that if I could stay near you, baby, but I grew up in Westerville, so don't try to con me,” Blaine said.

  


“Oh. Busted. Really, you grew up just down the road from me?” Kurt said, grinning.

  


“Yeah...I'm a Dalton boy. I was the lead Warbler in my time. I still have the blazer with the red piping in my closet back home,” Blaine sighed. He didn't really like to be reminded of those days.

  


Kurt was silent for a while and Blaine finally asked him what was wrong.

  


“Nothing. I was thinking about you in a blazer. And nothing else. Well, maybe a Dalton tie around your neck...” he smiled and put his head down, peeking at Blaine through his eyelashes. He heard Blaine take a sudden breath.

  


“Kurt....I know we can work this out. I will do the very best I can for us, and I have faith that I can make something work. I don't want to lose you. Ever.”

  


“Same here, Blaine. I love you, too. So much more than I can possibly say... Should we go talk to Dad?” he asked.

  


“Sure. Later, though. I think Carole mentioned they went out for lunch, so we have some time to ourselves, sort of,” Blaine said in a low, sultry voice. 

  


Kurt was done talking and pulled Blaine closer, tugging him right on top of his body. He parted his legs and Blaine fit there like they had been made for each other. Kurt reached up to kiss his lover and Blaine hummed his encouragement, kissing down Kurt's neck. They just kissed and stayed close, finally turning to lie down next to each other. 

  


“Blaine...you make me feel so good, I don't ever want to stop doing this,” Kurt said softly in his ear, tracing a line down Blaine's back under his shirt with one finger. 

  


“I don't either, but I'm so hard right now I'm going to have to either go take care of it or if I'm lucky you're going to, and I don't know who is home or who can hear us...” Blaine complained, palming his erection through his jeans.

  


Kurt took Blaine's hands and moved them away from his groin, then began undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. Blaine hummed his delight, which made Kurt move quicker. Blaine waited until Kurt had undone everything, then slid his clothes off – folding them into a less-than-tidy bundle and leaving them on the chair before he removed Kurt's clothes, folding them and placing them on the chair. 

  


It was the first time Kurt had seen a grown man with no clothes. He had placed his hands and fingers on every inch of Blaine's skin, but for all those months he had only had his imagination to show him what Blaine looked like bare. 

  


“Oh, my glory and stars....it was worth the wait,” Kurt whispered, letting his eyes fill with the sight of his lover. Blaine was lying on the forest green sheets and the color set off his skin, making it a golden tan. The muted sunlight was just right to show Blaine in shadows and light, enhancing the contours of his muscles to their best advantage. The sheets were just right to bring out the moss green flecks in his hazel eyes as he gave Kurt a soft look, full of want and need and love shining out directly from his heart. The man's lips were rosy pink and plump, just right for kissing and that was exactly what Kurt wanted in this moment – to kiss this beautiful man and ask him to be his forever more. He fell forwards, depending on Blaine to catch him.

  


Kurt started by kissing just the inside of Blaine's wrist. He had come to know that this was the starting place for seducing Blaine, it worked each and every time. Blaine could feel Kurt's excited breath as he stroked the soft and tender skin there, moving his lips up Blaine's arms to caress the skin with his warm tongue and listen to Blaine's needy moans escaping his mouth as Kurt continued.

  


The anticipation of having Kurt's body again after so long made Blaine a bit frantic, wanting to kiss, lick, caress, massage every single square inch of this amazing, beautiful boy. He slowed down as much as he could so as not to get clumsy and hurt his boyfriend. Kurt's pale skin bruised like a peach and it was too beautiful to make purple and black bruises all over. Blaine had never even given Kurt a hickey because it seemed blasphemous to mar that ivory and blush soft skin. He kissed so tenderly, so softly that Blaine was amazed at himself.

  


“Baby, are you okay if I get you ready? I know it has been a while, but I need you so badly right now. I need to know you're still mine,” Blaine whispered softly into Kurt's ear. A peaceful smile crossed Kurt's face as he tried to remember where the lube was that Blaine had brought and asked Kurt to put in a safe place.

  


“That is just what I was praying you would want, Blaine...it is exactly what I envisioned, and I want to show you that I am yours...now and forever,” Kurt breathed. Blaine kissed his lips again to show he understood. Lucky for them, the other occupants of the house had all gone out to lunch because being quiet left their heads as soon as they lost themselves in each other.

  


Blaine took the tube of lube and coated his fingers, then rolled Kurt onto his belly, pulling his legs apart very gently. 

  


“Blaine...I missed this...I missed you so much,” Kurt whispered, losing himself in the sensations taking over his conscious mind.

  


“I missed you, too, baby. Are we...?” Blaine started to say, but Kurt interrupted him with a moan.

  


“Right there....Blaine, oh, that feels so good,” Kurt said, “But I want to see your face, your beautiful face.”

  


“Okay, here, turn over and I'll kiss you while I do this,” Blaine suggested. Kurt complied, smiling when he could see his boyfriend's face.

  


Blaine took his time, kissing down Kurt's chest and tickling his belly with his tongue. When he had made sure he was ready, he took Kurt into his mouth and shivered at the moan he elicited as the wet warmth engulfed him. 

  


“Yes, Blaine...yes,” he said, suddenly holding his breath as he let the heat and pressure overwhelm him. Blaine pulled back, wanting this to last for a while so they could enjoy each other for a longer time.

  


Blaine centered himself on top of Kurt, fitting between his legs. Kurt nuzzled into his neck, sighing in pleasure at the scent of his lover. It was a mix of spice and clean rain, of fresh sweat and soap that remained around Blaine like a cloud. Kurt took another deep breath and groaned at the way it made him harder. 

  


Blaine kissed under Kurt's ear, welcoming the shiver it caused. He lingered there, just taking in Kurt's scent and feeling the boy's pulse quicken under his skin. Kurt closed his eyes and felt the silky black curls as they brushed against his chest. Every touch was a promise to take care of Kurt, to hold him gently and love him to his best ability. 

  


Kurt's body was aching to just be taken, to have Blaine deep inside where they could almost be one person. His hips pushed upwards, begging Blaine to enter him.

  


“I can't wait, baby, are you okay?” Blaine asked, wanting to thrust inside Kurt so badly he trembled in anticipation.

  


“Now, please...now,” Kurt pushed the words out of his mouth in spite of his lightheaded condition. 

  


Blaine pushed in and nothing could feel better than this. Kurt gave himself to Blaine completely with the knowledge that this man would take care of him, would love and cherish him. He trusted Blaine in every way possible and that was as much an aphrodisiac as any word or touch could ever be. 

  


The soft sounds that Kurt made: the whimper as he let Blaine in, the combination of gasps and quiet sighs as he found his rhythm, the whispers of love – it all served to make Blaine forget everything in his life but this boy. The ever increasing moans as Blaine changed angles and found the right place so that Kurt was begging him to stay there, not to stop. He reveled in Kurt's quickening pants and whines, each one reaching so deep inside Blaine that it was a part of him.

  


Far too soon, Blaine was beginning to feel the heat and spiraling tingle that sounded the end. He knew his orgasm was building and it was so good, this limbo between the real world and euphoria. One look at Kurt's face and he knew the boy was in the same place, that land that they could only find together.

  


“Kurt...I'm so close, baby. I can hang on a little if...”

  


“No, I'm almost there. Don't hold back, not now that we're finally together again. Oh, yes, Blaine....” Kurt blurted, hoping he could hold just that moment longer. Blaine felt the second that the balance was tipped the other way, the moment he was too far gone to hold it back again. His eyes sought out Kurt's and found the boy looking back, not blinking as Blaine opened his mouth and let the sound out. He felt Kurt squeezing him so tightly and realized he was coming, too. 

  


The look of utter bliss on Blaine's face was the best thing Kurt had ever seen. He could feel the thrusts slowing down, Blaine's muscles stiffening for a brief second before the pumping, rhythmic feeling deep inside himself indicated Blaine's satisfaction. His face was so beautiful it brought tears to Kurt's eyes to look at him. 

  


“Oh, Blaine...I am yours. Forever yours,” Kurt whispered, not sure if Blaine heard him or not. It didn't matter, though, it only mattered if Kurt knew it for now. Any doubts he had given thought to since coming away from the island were burned up to blow away in the wind now. Nothing could take that away from Kurt.

  


 

  


Blaine lay full length on Kurt, wanting to move, to get his weight off of the angel in his arms, but he couldn't yet. Just a few more moments...

  


“I'm going to move, baby, just a sec,” Blaine muttered, trying to gather the strength to do as he said.

  


“No, stay for a few more minutes, please. I want to hold you,” Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear, his arms around Blaine tightening as he said it.

  


They finally shifted so both were lying on the pillow, Blaine kissing Kurt's forehead tenderly. He knew they should get up and go to clean up, take a shower, get dressed. The island was so much better, where a handful of sand rubbed on his chest would remove the residue of their love-making and a dip in the tide pool was only a short walk when they had rested. Here they needed to shower and dress in case the other inhabitants of the house came home. Blaine lived in fear of a knock at the bedroom door and an angry father bear on the other side, ready to tear him limb from limb. He closed his eyes to banish those kinds of thoughts from taking anything away from his time with his beloved angel. He kissed Kurt one more time just because he could, then sat up.

  


Kurt followed, a bit reluctant to leave the warm bed, but cheered by the prospect of being naked with Blaine in the shower. 

  


 

  


Half an hour later, the bedroom door was open. The couple was dressed and lounging on the bed, which was made with fresh linens and piles of pillows, watching a movie on Blaine's laptop. Kurt was snuggled against Blaine's chest, practically purring in post-coital bliss when Finn knocked lightly on the open door.

  


“Come in,” Kurt directed, looking up and squinting his eyes to see who it was. He was trying to memorize all the new faces and fit them up with the voices he'd come to know. 

  


“Don't squint your eyes, baby. It won't help and it's not good for them,” Blaine admonished quietly, then turned to their visitor.

  


“Hey, I was just coming in to see how you're doing, Kurt,” Finn said, walking to the desk chair next to the bed. Kurt nodded at the chair and Finn sat down.

  


“I'm doing okay. I have just a touch of a headache, but it isn't bad at all compared with the ones I had before,” Kurt related. Blaine looked at him closely.

  


“I can get you something for the pain if you need it. Your prescription bottle is in the hall cupboard,” he offered with concern.

  


“No, I think an aspirin would be fine, thanks, but I can go find that,” Kurt said.

  


“I'll get it for you, I know where Grandmother keeps them,” Finn offered. He was back in a few minutes, a tray with three glasses of lemonade and the bottle of aspirin in his hands. Setting the tray down on the bedside table, he shook out two pills, handed them to Kurt and gave each a glass of lemonade.

  


“Thanks, Finn. I appreciate it so much,” Kurt smiled at the young giant.

  


“No problem. Whatcha watchin'”? He asked, looking at the laptop screen.

  


“The First Time,” Blaine said, blushing just a tiny bit at being caught watching a chick flick.

  


Finn sat for a few minutes, watching the actors until his face lit up.

  


“Hey, that's the guy from Teen Wolf, right? The one that plays Stiles!” Finn said, proud of having recognized the man.

  


“Yes, that's Dylan O'Brien,” Blaine acknowledged. Kurt grinned, watching the good looking actor as he fumbled his way around a girl's house trying to avoid her father. It really was a silly chick flick, but the plot was not the reason Kurt and Blaine were watching it. Kurt really liked Dylan O'Brien and Blaine really liked Kurt, so...

  


They watched the end of the movie, visions of a 'first time' with Dylan floating through Kurt's head until Blaine coughed. Kurt sat up, moving his attention to his boyfriend and Finn.

  


“What's up? Because I kind of think you didn't come in here to watch that movie,” Kurt said.

  


“I wondered if you were going to be okay with being my brother – if you thought we would get along or if we needed to bond or something. I can take you fishing in the skiff maybe?” Finn asked, his face innocent. Kurt just stared at him.

  


“What are you talking about?” he asked, the reason probably a foregone conclusion, but he needed to hear what Finn had to say about it.

  


“Ah...you didn't know? I thought your dad would have talked to you about it. I'm sorry, just pretend I never said a word,” Finn said, red-faced as he got up to leave the room.

  


“Wait a damned minute, buddy. You're going to tell me what the hell is going on, and you're going to do it now,” Kurt said, his voice leaving no room for doubting his anger.

  


“I'm sorry, Kurt. I thought Burt would have said something to you. Well, they didn't exactly tell me in so many words, but it's like Burt and my mom have been dating and walking on the beach in the moonlight. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on.”

  


“Well, no...he hasn't said a word to me. I know he likes Carole, but he never mentioned they were serious,” Kurt said, wilting on the bed. Blaine reached to take his hand in silent support.

  


“Dude, he walks on the beach with her, they go to lunch and dinner, and I saw them kissing yesterday. I don't think it will lead to anything but marriage,” Finn said, looking far from upset. He grinned.

  


“Well, Carole is a nice person, I like her, but Dad never said anything to me about being more involved with her,” Kurt said, sounding a little hurt.

  


“I'm sure he was waiting for the best time to tell you, Babe. He just got you back after such a long time, he probably doesn't want to scare you,” Blaine soothed, running his hand down Kurt's arm.

  


“I have been thinking they were getting awfully close – maybe I just can't see the forest for the trees. I'll talk to him when they get back. Thanks, Finn, for letting me know. And for the record, I think you'd make an awesome brother,” Kurt smiled at Finn. “But don't ever call me 'dude' again.” 

  


Finn laughed and got up to leave, thinking about the girl he was taking to the dive-in tonight. 

  


 

  


“Are you okay about all of this?” Blaine asked his boyfriend.

  


“Yeah, I've wanted Dad to date for a few years. I encouraged him, so I can't really be upset if he found someone to fall in love with, now can I?” 

  


“No. Plus, it does balance the scale a bit, don't you think?” Blaine asked and looked in Kurt's eyes.

  


“How?”

  


“Well, if Burt is going to be getting married, he can't very well tell you that you can't fall in love. Right?” Blaine asked rhetorically. Kurt laughed.

  


“Yeah. We'll see how far that gets us,” Kurt rolled his eyes.

  


 

  


 

  


At about five o'clock Burt knocked on the open door to the room Kurt was using. 

  


“Dad! Come in and have a seat,” Kurt beckoned.

  


“How was your lunch, Burt?” Blaine asked, using the name the man had asked him to use. 

  


“We had a great time. I had a salad, Kurt,” his father told him, grinning to see Kurt's smile. “Hey, Blaine, I was wondering if I might have a minute alone with Kurt?”

  


Blaine looked at the boy, who gave him a small nod.

  


“Sure, I'll go sit on the porch. I haven't read the newspaper today,” Blaine agreed, dropping a chaste kiss to Kurt's lips before departing.

  


 

  


“Son, I have something to discuss with you,” Burt started, not sure where to begin.

  


Kurt sat looking at his dad, trying to focus his eyes. They were getting better by the day, but he was still troubled by some fuzzy vision.

  


“Sure, Dad, what's up?” he asked.

  


“Well, you know I've been dating Carole – right?” he asked.

  


“Yeah. I sure like her, Dad. She is so sweet – just like her parents. I like her son, too. He's a friendly sort, always a smile on his face.”

  


“He gets it from his mom. I have been seeing her for over a month now, and we've gotten pretty close,” Burt said, still gauging Kurt's reaction.

  


“And...?”

  


“Ah. Oh, how would you like to finish your last year of high school right here in St Thomas? They have several schools both public and private, and one charter school. We can go visit them if you'd like,” Burt said.

  


“Are we going to move here? What about the shop in Lima?” Kurt asked, his heart beating fast.

  


“Your Uncle Frank has offered to buy it. He knows as much about car repair as I do – our old man made sure we could take apart and put together everything from a skateboard to a John Deere. He's every bit as good at mechanics as I am,” Burt told him.

  


Kurt wasn't quite sure what to say. He wanted to live here with Blaine so badly, but expected his father to disagree with him. He'd girded himself up for a real fight and here he was getting exactly what he wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He didn't know what to say.

  


“Aw, Kurt. I know you'll miss your friends, won't you? I think we can go back to Lima for another year if it means that much to you. I'll talk to Carole, she will understand,” Burt said as he got up to leave.

  


“No! Dad, wait!!” Kurt shouted, anxious to tell him how happy he was about staying here in the Virgin Islands.

  


“Oh, Kurt. I never thought...you don't want to be reminded of those five months stranded on that atoll, do you? How could I be so insensitive?” Burt looked contrite and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder to apologize.

  


“No, Dad. I want to move here. I love it here, and I may have a few friends that it will be hard to say goodbye to, but I am happy to be here. Do you think there's a place you could buy and have a shop here?” Kurt asked.

  


“Really, kiddo? You want to stay here? Don't say it just to make me happy. Its my job to see that you're happy,” Burt said, putting his arm around Kurt.

  


“Dad, I'm so happy – you cannot imagine. So, what does your dating Carole have to do with us moving to St Thomas?,” Kurt said in an innocent voice. Burt blushed dark red. Kurt giggled.

  


“So...am I getting a new mother and brother?” 

  


“Maybe. I mean...I wanted to ask you how you might feel about it. Carole was thinking she might stay here with her parents. She was living in North Carolina, but it was hard without someone to share her life with. She was visiting her folks when we met. After you were reported missing, Milo and Rebecca insisted that I stay with them while I looked for you. We were going to all the authorities, interviewing anyone who was on the water in that storm..and we just fell in love,” Kurt's dad told him, tears in his eyes thinking about that time. 

  


Kurt understood and moved closer to his dad, hugging him tightly.

  


“You know what kept me going on that island? It was knowing in my heart that you would never give up on me, Dad, that made it tolerable. I mean, Blaine was amazing – he kept me alive, he was there when I needed him. Knowing that you would keep looking until you found me was what was most important.”

  


“Blaine means a lot to you, doesn't he?” Burt asked, although he didn't really want to hear Kurt's answer. He already knew it and seeing Kurt as a grown man with thoughts and desires of his own was just too new. The wound in his heart was still raw.

  


“Oh, Dad, if you only knew. I love Blaine. I know its strange and we're going to have to grow thick skins in order to stay together, but I can't help it. He's worth everything to me. You understand, right?” Kurt's blue eyes looked straight into Burt's soul and he knew that this was going to happen. Kurt had found true love and he had better get used to it.

  


“Its okay, I do understand. Looks like the Hummel men have had a good summer after all,” Burt grinned at his son.

  


Kurt hugged him once again, thankful to have such a wonderful father. 

  


“You are...ah, being alone on that island, kiddo...ah, how close did you get?” Burt asked, kind of afraid of his son's answer but determined to make sure he was safe.

  


“Well, they didn't have a corner drugstore, but we..ah...he is a doctor, Dad. He had been tested since his last...and I had never...” Kurt just stopped talking. His dad looked like he was going to faint.

  


“Okay, you were safe. You know I'm still not so happy about him being so much older than you. Are you sure you love him, or maybe it was just that you are grateful..?” Burt started to say, but stopped when he saw Kurt's face. It held the accusation of betrayal and Burt thought about what he had told his son a few years ago. That he mattered. Not to throw himself around. He looked in Kurt's eyes once more and saw that this was not some fleeting puppy love. He thought back on the time they had spent together since the rescue and Burt was convinced of Kurt's feelings towards Blaine Anderson.

  


“Kurt, I apologize if I sounded as if I was treating you like a foolish kid. First of all, you have never been foolish in your life, and secondly: since your return from the island, you have not been a kid. I think you grew up a lot in those few months. Kurt, if you really love Blaine and he loves you, I'm there to support you. I love you, kid.”

  


“Thank you, Dad. That means the world to me.”

  


 

  


 

  


 

* * *

  


**Later that evening, after supper**

  


 

  


“Do you want to go walk on the beach?” Kurt asked Blaine, limping out to the patio where his boyfriend had been sitting after their meal.

  


“Sure. Are you feeling up to a little bit of a hike or would you rather walk on the flat sand tonight?”

  


“I'm up for some adventure, let's go,” Kurt smiled. He hadn't had time to talk to Blaine since his father had told him the news.

  


They strolled down to the shore, hand in hand, and along the tide pools. They were just small ones here, nothing like the deep ones on the atoll. Neither felt a need to break the silence.

  


Sitting on a piece of driftwood to rest for a moment, Kurt turned to Blaine, cupping his cheek to see his eyes in the soft twilight.

  


“I love you, Blaine Anderson.”

  


“I love you, too. What did your dad have to say? You've been so silent all evening. Is there something you need to tell me?”


	14. Mermen

 

“Do you want to go walk on the beach?” Kurt asked Blaine, walking out to the patio where his boyfriend had been sitting after their meal.

“Sure. Are you feeling up to a little bit of a hike or would rather walk on the flat sand tonight and take it easy??”

“I'm up for some adventure, let's go,” Kurt smiled. He hadn't had time to talk to Blaine alone since his father had told him the news.

They strolled down to the shore, hand in hand, and walked along the tide pools. They were just small ones here, nothing like the deep ones on the atoll. Neither felt a need to break the silence.

Sitting on a piece of driftwood to rest for a moment, Kurt turned to Blaine, cupping his cheek to see his eyes in the waning light of the evening.

“I love you, Blaine Anderson.”

“I love you, too, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine said back after kissing his cheek. “What did your dad have to say? You've been so silent all evening. Is there something you need to tell me?” 

“Yes,” Kurt said, kissing his lips softly.

“Is it good news?” Blaine asked, looking into Kurt's eyes. After five months of blank staring, the twinkling blue of Kurt's seeing eyes focused on his was a delight beyond what Blaine had imagined. He was so thankful that Dr. Avon was able to remove the blood clot with such success. 

“Oh, maybe. I'll start by telling you that my Uncle Frank is buying my dad's shop back in Lima,” Kurt teased, wanting to lead up to the best news. “Dad says he is getting older and he's not up to climbing under cars these days.”

“He is doing fine for his age and the condition of his heart, Kurt, so don't worry. He does need to keep exercising, but climbing under cars and the stress of being the owner of a small business are not really the best things for him. I had advised him to back off the hands-on portion of the repairs, so I'm happy to know he is listening to me and to his cardiologist,” Blaine said, smiling sadly. He could see in Kurt's eyes that he was afraid for his father. Blaine took his hand and they got up to walk further down the beach.

“Dad told me he might be getting serious. About Carole.”

“That doesn't surprise me. I know Carole and Finn didn't want to go back to North Carolina, that's why they were here with her folks. I know they were trying to decide where to move. Have Carole or Finn mentioned where they might want to settle? Maybe in Ohio?” Blaine grinned, thinking he knew what was coming. He was wrong.

“No, I think they're staying here with Milo and Rebecca,” Kurt said, wondering when Blaine would figure out that he was going to stay here, too.

“Oh. Gee, I thought Burt and Carole were...kind of closer than that. Did he say when you two are going home?” Blaine asked, not wanting to hear the answer, but at least he would be able to check and see if there were any job openings in Lima.

Kurt just walked down the beach, hand in hand with Blaine. They came to a rocky outcropping and Blaine scrambled up and over the first large rock, putting out a hand to help the chestnut-haired boy up. They climbed across the rocks silently, all of their concentration on the rough path. They came to an inlet that had some trees and brush, a slanted path down to the white-sand beach, and no other way in or out. 

“All alone with you,” Kurt said, the smile spreading across his lips as he looked back at Blaine.

“Yeah, Wes told me about this. Its on public land, but hardly anyone ever comes here. There are so many small beaches like this all along the coast line that most people don't want the hard work of climbing the rocks to get here.”

“I think its beautiful, just breathtaking. Kind of like you, Blaine,” Kurt said softly, nuzzling against his neck when they stopped to enjoy the view.

“Thank you, sweetheart, but I could very well say the same thing. Do you want to go over and have a seat? I brought a blanket and there looks like enough driftwood to build a fire,” Blaine said. He pulled the blanket out of his backpack and spread it on the sand. Together they found the wood for the fire and Kurt lit it.

“Wow, that is so much easier to do when you can see where the matches and kindling are!” he laughed. Blaine was glad to see he could joke about it now. Kurt was still wearing the dark glasses during the day, but in this twilight they weren't necessary. 

Blaine sat on the blanket, holding his arms up to invite Kurt to join him. The boy cuddled close, sitting in front of Blaine so he could put his back to Blaine's chest and be wrapped in his protective arms. The doctor leaned forward a little, kissing along Kurt's shoulder as he pulled the boat-neck shirt down his shoulder to gain access. Kurt hummed his appreciation.

“What were we talking about?” Kurt asked, knowing exactly what they were discussing before the climb.

“When Burt is planning to get back to Ohio I think,” Blaine said. He really wanted this time to last. He knew what it was like in Ohio and he wasn't looking forward to it. While a lot of people had progressed in their thinking about practising the 'live and let live' doctrines of the present day, there were still too many that clung to the older prejudicial values concerning gay and other alternative lifestyles. He had even witnessed it in New York where the 'good old boy' system was alive and well in hospital politics. Honestly, he just wanted a good start and a fresh page. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, about that,” Kurt turned to face Blaine, moving to his knees and sitting on his heels as he took Blaine's face in his hands. He brushed his thumb across the stubbled cheek and looked directly into those honey-brown eyes. 

“We aren't going back to Ohio. Well, we are - but just to pack. Dad asked me if I would mind moving here. I can finish my last year of high school here. What do you think?” Kurt asked. He was pretty sure of Blaine's response, but his pulse quickened just the same.

“No? You're staying here?” Blaine repeated to make sure his ears heard the same thing his heart did.

“Yeah. Dad wants to buy a house and stay here close to Carole. I think he wants to propose, but was worried she would be uncomfortable in Lima. She needs her parents right now. I think it was also for me. Like he told me, I have never been as happy as I am near you. I don't want anything else...just you,” he said, then worked his lower lip in between his teeth in a nervous manner.

“Hey, babe, don't do that,” Blaine admonished. “You're going to need that lip, honey. I will need a lot of kisses later.”

Blaine leaned forward and brushed his lips over Kurt's swollen lip and heard his boyfriend sigh. Kurt kissed back, his weight falling forward for the man to catch. They laid down in each other's arms to watch the sun as it faded behind the edge of the ocean in a spectacular display in shades of pinks, oranges, and deep blue.

“Did it look like that on our atoll?” Kurt asked, sad he had never seen it for himself.

“Yes, but even more beautiful. You know, I asked Milo if he could find the atoll again and he said he had the coordinates, so I guess we could. Do you want to go back?” Blaine asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I'd really like to _**see**_ the island with you. With my own eyes. I was wondering what it really looked like...I had it all in my mind, you know, I spent a good deal of time imagining it when we were there. I imagined you, too,” Kurt admitted. 

“You did? Well, I guess that goes without saying. Was I very much of a disappointment when you finally did see me?” Blaine asked hesitantly.

Kurt turned from looking at the ocean and focused once again on the man he loved.

“It wouldn't have mattered if you looked like Medusa, I would have been happy to just see your face. Lucky for me that wasn't the case. Blaine, you are unequivocally the hottest, most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life,” Kurt said, his face so serious that Blaine had no choice but to believe him. 

Blaine blushed just a little, ducking his head to hide it. Kurt reached his hand up to touch his chin, lifting it so he could look into the man's eyes.

“There's no need to do that, my love, its only me here. I'm just saying what the rest of the world is too shy to tell you,” he whispered, then kissed Blaine's cheek.

Blaine wondered, not for the first time, who was the adult in this relationship. Kurt was more mature, more intelligent, and had deeper thoughts than any teenager Blaine could recall knowing. 

“So, what do we do now?” Kurt wondered. 

“I'll talk to Cooper and Wes. If you want to stay here, we can move you to Wes's house with me maybe. I have the feeling your Dad won't be on board for that, though. I have the job at the hospital and they have offered to take me on full time as a trauma surgeon or in the pediatric wing. Then when you graduate, I'll just go with you to New York. I can get a position at a different hospital there or maybe open a practice. What do you think?”

“Dad is not going to just let me go live with you, I'm pretty sure. As much as I would love to. I can spend a lot of time with you, but he'll draw the line at moving in.

“Are you sure you want to go back to New York? I know there are other colleges that have design schools. Why don't I look into some of those. If I got a scholarship to Parsons, I can probably get one somewhere else,” Kurt said, weighing the pros and cons of everything in his head. This was going to take some serious thinking and a pad of paper to figure out.

“Let's save all that for next week, okay? I just want to watch the sunset and hold you for now,” Blaine suggested.

Kurt hummed his agreement and snuggled closer to his boyfriend.

They watched the sun until it was past the horizon, then turned to each other. They didn't need words, Kurt knew what Blaine wanted from the way he was caressing his back, running his fingers along the lines and planes of muscle and bone, tracing the blood vessels as they pumped their cargo through his body. Kurt lay down when Blaine pushed his shoulders back, his shirt already folded in a stack at the edge of the blanket. In a very few minutes the rest of their clothes had joined it and Kurt was feasting his eyes on Blaine's naked body, golden in the reflection of the campfire.

Blaine was blown away by Kurt's body. He was every time, thanking God for giving him this gift. He could hardly believe he was allowed to hold this precious soul in his hands and it shook him to the core when he thought about it. Kurt was so shy - until he gathered his courage and then he could be demanding and forceful – a combination that astounded Blaine. He never knew which trait would surface and tonight he waited to see if the tiger would emerge.

Kurt leaned up to place a gentle kiss on Blaine's mouth, but as soon as Blaine was invested in the kiss Kurt quickly flipped him over. Blaine certainly had no qualms about having his boyfriend on top – and all thought left his head as Kurt took over all of his senses. 

At first, he held Blaine down by his shoulders, covering his cheeks and neck with ever-increasing kisses and then on to licking and tickling with his tongue, then finally soft love bites that left no bruises behind. The boy was humming as he paid reverence to Blaine's skin, leaving each bit with a reminder of warmth and lips and tongue. 

Blaine's body ached to be closer, to take over and thrust inside of Kurt, and it was only his desire to let Kurt lead this time to see where they would go that stopped Blaine from rolling them back so he was on top.

Coming back up, Kurt's mouth found Blaine's and he filled it with a warm tongue that tasted like the pineapple they had shared after supper. Blaine moaned because that tongue absolutely owned him. Pulling back, Kurt's eyes filled with the sight of Blaine's body and he knew it was his for the taking. This had been understood from the first time and it went both ways, because he was also Blaine's to take. It wasn't like anything Kurt had dreamed in all the nights he'd stayed awake thinking of what it would look like when he fell in love. That was slow and romantic, taking years of courtship and permissions asked and granted.

This was different and Kurt would not have changed a second of this for all of his romantic dreams. This made sense to him – every touch and whispered promise given or taken by the two of them. No question or argument about what was allowed or forbidden. With Blaine everything was allowed because he would never do something that Kurt didn't like, Kurt trusted him with his body and his heart and Blaine understood the promise and in turn trusted Kurt.

Blaine's voice was curling around Kurt's name, breathing it as a prayer as he stroked and fondled his thighs and belly, getting closer and closer to the object of his desire. Kurt moved to accommodate Blaine's comfort, shifting to be on top and between his legs. 

“What do you want, my love?” Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear, mouthing at his neck as he listened to the request.

“Can you suck me, baby?” Blaine asked, the words going straight to Kurt's cock. He whined at the sudden feeling of heat but managed not to thrust his hips forward. 

“Like this?” Kurt asked, kissing the tip before he stretched his lips around it. Blaine groaned in answer and Kurt concentrated his tongue on the sweet spot at the front of the ridge. He pushed forward, taking more in than he thought possible, feeling it at the back of his throat for a moment. Blaine sighed when he pulled back, but the sigh turned into a whine of excitement as Kurt took a deep breath and once again swallowed with the tip near his throat. This time he was able to overcome his body's rebellion and took it just a bit deeper. 

“Kurt...oh, you are magic,” Blaine murmured. 

Kurt kept a slow rhythm, just a bit too slow for Blaine to be able to get that right amount of friction. He wanted this to last a long time. Blaine combed his fingers through Kurt's hair, the thick, glossy chestnut strands felt like silk and Kurt purred in contentment.

Kurt had brought a small packet of astroglide and smeared his fingers with it before sliding them into Blaine, gently. 

“Oh...baby, yes, yes,” Blaine said, his hands on Kurt's head as if in benediction. Kurt paid close attention to what he was doing, switching sucking lightly to tongue acrobatics and kept Blaine in a perpetual state of _not quite there_. He carefully stretched Blaine, making him ready for what Kurt had been thinking about for hours. He marvelled at Blaine's pliant, flexible body as the man twisted in his grasp – trying to calm the sea of lava building in his belly before it was too late to control.

“Stop, Kurt...please. I need you, I want more...not your mouth now, I want you inside me, Babe. Please,” Blaine rambled, deliberately scooting back to stop Kurt from taking his unconditional surrender. Kurt finally stopped, waiting for Blaine to catch his breath.

“Come here,” Blaine coaxed, his arms up to ask Kurt to take him in his arms. Kurt obeyed, chest meeting chest as he nuzzled Blaine's neck. “Kurt...oh, it is so good with you. So good.”

Kurt wasn't able to articulate any words, so he let his lips show Blaine how much he wanted him.

“Let me ride you, Kurt,” Blaine said, the words going deep inside Kurt to cause ripples of pleasure to come once again to the surface. He rolled off of Blaine, onto his back on the blanket and Blaine took the lubricant, pouring enough to slather it on Kurt's cock. He loved the gasp as the warmed liquid was applied, Blaine's hand pumping more than was necessary and igniting little sparks of fire along Kurt's spine. The boy's cock was angry red, thrusting up as Blaine got on top and settled in the right position. 

Kurt took hold of Blaine's hips and as soon as he breached the ring of muscle, Kurt pulled his lover's hips down hard and filled him to the hilt. Blaine saw white behind his eyes as the friction and force spun through his mind, generating a howl of pleasure that echoed off the rocks. Blaine was frozen in place, his muscles refusing to take direction for a moment until the man gathered all of his self-control and pulled off halfway, them plunged down again. Kurt was beside himself in mounting tension, unable to control or direct anything, he hung on to the blanket underneath him, his fists aching in cramps that he didn't even feel.

“Oh my...Blaaaiiinee, fuck yes,” Kurt swore, having never felt anything so immediate – so urgent but uncontrollable. It was like falling headfirst out of a plane with all the adrenaline pulsing through him, invading every inch of his body and he had no way to stop it if he wanted to. But Kurt didn't want to. He could just make out Blaine's face in the firelight and his look of determination coupled with amazement was something Kurt could never have even dreamed up. It was his Blaine, the man he was in love with and he was more determined than ever to never let him go. Kurt was greedy, wanting Blaine for his own and he would fight for this man against anyone – even his own father if it came to that.

Blaine's movements got harder and faster, his muscles straining and stretching as he pushed his weight up and down. The compulsion to make Kurt feel good was so strong he could never defy it.

“Baby...I'm getting so close...do you need me to touch you?” Kurt got out but Blaine didn't answer - he was alternately panting and holding his breath. He managed a shake of his head as Kurt gasped.

“Oh, Blaine...I'm there,” Kurt moaned just as Blaine felt an amazing warmth spread inside of him, heat pumping and Kurt's cock pushing on his prostate causing a chain reaction, an exquisite torture coming to an end as he spent himself. Blaine hung his head, dripping sweat onto Kurt's belly in the pool of semen as he tried to stay stable and not just fall.

Kurt could not move for a moment, riding out the pleasure of his orgasm. He unwrapped his fists from the blanket and placed his palms on Blaine's chest, taking some of his weight until he was able to shift and lie down.

 

A few minutes later, they were lying on their sides, facing each other and smiling. Each encounter with Kurt made Blaine wish he could wrap it up like a treasure and keep it in his pocket forever, to be taken out and enjoyed on days when he was apart from his love.

They got up after resting, washing each other in the sea where it was calm in the little inlet. 

“I know we have to go back,” Kurt said, a little sad that their time alone had to end.

 

“Not really. I told your dad that we were spending the night with friends and he just asked me to take care of you. Let's go snuggle on the beach. The tide won't turn until after ten tomorrow morning and this part of the beach is above high tide.”

“Wow, you really planned this, didn't you?” Kurt grinned. They walked back to the blanket and fire, Blaine pulling another blanket out of his backpack. He rolled up his shirt around his towel and set it on the blanket, did the same for Kurt, and they lay down on the makeshift pillows.

“Blaine...thank you,” Kurt said as he buried his face in the man's neck. 

“You're welcome...but for what?”

“Being mine,” Kurt murmured as he melted into Blaine's welcoming embrace.

“Oh, Kurt...I hope you'll always be mine, honey. Do you believe there is someone in the world meant for everyone?”

“You mean like a soulmate?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, like that. I know it sounds corny, but it does feel as if you and I meeting was more than just a random act of serendipity. Don't you think there is more to it than that?” Blaine asked, comfortable on the blanket spread on soft sand, Kurt's chestnut hair under his chin and their hands linked together. 

“Hmmm....like it was written in the stars or something? Maybe. Whomever is directing that sure knew exactly what I needed,” Kurt said softly, leaning in to kiss Blaine's swollen lips. They were so plump and sexy that Kurt had to continue kissing him for quite a while.

“Do you miss the island?” Blaine asked, stroking Kurt's cheek, still amazed at how soft his skin was.

“Yeah. I didn't like being blind, that was so frightening, but maybe it was good, too. I might not have clung to you so tightly if I hadn't needed you so much. I was so shy, and being forced to ask you for things is really what started this....this love affair. It would have been out of the question if I had been more independent. It was the perfect balance between us I think. Now, I want to fulfill my promise to you tomorrow morning. How about it?” Kurt asked.

Blaine sat in thought for a few minutes.

“What promise?”

“When I pulled your half-drowned carcass out of the drink, silly. I promised that I would teach you to swim. Tomorrow is the day,” Kurt grinned.

Blaine closed his eyes and said a little prayer that he might grow fins and a merman tail before dawn.

 

 

 


	15. Back to Paradise

“Hey, stop that!” Blaine said in slight irritation. 

“Stop what?” Kurt asked from a few feet away. He was cooking bacon and eggs on the campfire, but burst into laughter when he turned to see Blaine.

The man was lying wrapped in a blanket, a large dog trying to nuzzle under his chin and give him a lick of its huge tongue.

“Stop it, I say!” Blaine shouted, swatting the cold nose away from his neck. “Oh!! Your nose is cold. Kurt! Help me!”

Kurt tried to contain his laughter, walking back to the blanket and taking the dog by its collar, dragging it away.

“Hey, buddy, you can't do that. Let the poor man wake up before you give him a bath,” Kurt coaxed. He let go and the dog sat down, his tail going a mile a minute. “Well, Buddy, you sure are friendly. I wonder where you belong? I don't think a pretty fella like you should be running around unescorted.”

“Oh, I see...I get mauled by a ferocious dog and you take the dog's side of it,” Blaine grouched, pulling the blanket up near his shoulders.

Kurt let the dog go, served the food from the pan, and walked back to Blaine with the plates to sit down.

They watched as the dog climbed up the rocks and over the top.

“Not exactly the wake-up call I was dreaming about...” Blaine laughed.

“Sorry about that. I thought after the other two wake up calls during the night you might want to sleep in,” Kurt giggled, feeding Blaine a bit of scrambled egg from his fork.

“Mmmmm. Good, Babe. Delicious even,” he said, sitting up a bit more to lean against Kurt as he finished eating. “So, what's on the agenda for the day?”

“Teaching you to swim?” Kurt grinned.

“Ah...maybe next week. I really don't want to learn today. Honest, Kurt...you have no idea how scared I am of deep water. None.” Blaine moved closer to Kurt, taking his hand.

“All right. I do understand about being scared. I know when I have a panic attack I'm so scared...its just beyond anything I can describe. Let's get back home then. We need to talk to my father. He needs to go back to Lima to get things settled with my uncle, and I think I should go with him,” Kurt said, looking to see Blaine's reaction. He looked sad.

“Okay. I knew it was coming. Don't stay away too long, all right?” Blaine asked, resigned to being without Kurt for a while.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hi Dad,” Kurt said, Didya miss me?”

“Of course, kiddo. Now, have you told Blaine about our plans?” Burt asked.

“Yes,” Kurt replied.

“I asked Carole last night to marry me,” Burt said, ducking his head. He was worried about Kurt being upset.

“Oh! That's wonderful!” Kurt crowed, Blaine grinning beside him.

“Ah...you're not upset that I didn't tell you first that I was going to ask her?” Burt wondered.

“No, Dad, of course not. I kind of thought you might. I have something to tell you, too,” Kurt admitted. “Maybe we should sit down?”

“Sit? Why...what's wrong?” Burt asked.

“Nothing is wrong. Blaine and I...well, since we're going to live here, and you're getting married, and I'm almost eighteen and all....”

“Oh, I see where this is going. NO. You may not get married, Kurt. You have college and you have so many things to experience...you are still a child, for goodness sake,” Burt burst out. He just got his son back – he wasn't about to lose him to anyone now. He hadn't even graduated yet.

“Burt, if I may...?” Blaine said, looking at Kurt's dad.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Burt asked.

“I love Kurt. I want him to have everything in this world that he wants, including a college education. No, we don't want to get married today, but we do want to spend the rest of our lives together. Something happened on that atoll, and I can't say what it was because I don't know. Maybe it was depending on each other for months, maybe it was written in the stars, but we fell in love and after months of talking it out, we have decided to marry. Not now, but after Kurt graduates. I can pay for his college, and I intend to do so, that way you can have the money you've saved for buying a business here in St Thomas. I have my position in the hospital here, and I am going to live with Wes for a while. When Kurt graduates, he can go to college. I won't stop him,” Blaine explained. He said everything so fast, Burt couldn't get a word in edgewise.

“Oh..well, I think we need to go back to Lima and pack, then I can talk all of this over with Kurt and Carole. I know you two think you're in love...” Burt said, but Kurt interrupted.

“You've known her less time than I've known Blaine, but its okay for you to get married? How is that fair? Do you think you can love more than I can? Does your love mean more than ours?” Kurt yelled, frustrated at the double standard.

“Calm down, Kurt. No, I don't think me loving Carole is any less than you loving Blaine. I didn't think about it like that. Let's get moved, then we'll talk about it. Okay?” he asked.

“Okay, Dad. I don't want to fight, but you have to know I'm not changing my mind,” Kurt said in a calmer voice. Blaine moved closer to him and put his arms around his waist. 

“I think that's the best idea. Now, maybe we can get some lunch and plan the move?” Blaine suggested.

 

 

* * *

 

**Three weeks later**

 

The Hummels had gone back to Ohio and packed their house. Burt did the paperwork to sell his garage to his brother and they were back in St Thomas in record time. It was a toss-up whether Carole or Blaine was happier to see the Hummel men get off the plane.

Burt bought a gas station and hired a good bunch of guys to help him run it. He was teaching Finn to work on cars and Kurt helped out. When school started, they registered at the local high school together.

Blaine was working at the hospital once again. Wes traded rooms with Blaine to give him more room so Kurt could stay over more often. Kurt's eyes improved steadily, and before long he was able to see very well, although he now wore glasses. 

 

**One Night At Milo and Rebecca's House**

 

“Kurt, I wondered if you and Blaine had some time to talk?” Burt asked. They hadn't really addressed the problem of what was going to happen now.

“Sure, Dad. Blaine, too?” Kurt asked.

“Yep. Just come out here on the patio, okay?” Burt said.

Blaine and Kurt walked out to sit with Burt, Carole, and Finn.

“We've set the wedding date. We want to get married in a month. Neither of us want a big wedding, we just want a small one,” Burt started, holding Carole's hand.

“Oh! I can plan a small one. Can I do the planning?” Kurt asked, grinning and bouncing in his seat.

Carole smiled.

“Of course you can. We can start tomorrow, I'm happy to have help,” Carole told her soon-to-be son.

“Milo and Rebecca have decided to give us the house. It is only their vacation home, so they will stay here when they come, but otherwise its ours,” Burt said, reaching over to hold Carole's hand. Finn grinned from ear to ear. He loved living here.

“Which leads us to where you will be staying, Kurt. I know you are legally an adult now, but I want you to stay in school and graduate. You will live here, but you may stay with Blaine on his nights off. Is that fair?” Burt asked.

It was more than the two had dreamed of happening.

“Yes, Dad. Don't worry, I will keep my grades up. I want to go to a good college, you know,” he promised. 

“I trust you, son. And I trust you, too, Blaine. Don't make me sorry,” he frowned, but everyone knew it was a bluff.

 

 

The next Saturday, skies were clear and blue, the ocean was calm, and Milo asked Blaine and Kurt if they wanted to visit the atoll. He knew how to find it and Kurt had mentioned that he wanted to see it with his own eyes. 

 

 

“That's the one,” Milo pointed out and found a place to drop anchor. He helped Blaine get the skiff into the bay and the two got in to paddle to the little island. “I want to leave by five o'clock, so be back by four thirty, okay?”

“We will. That gives us six hours. Thank you, Milo,” Blaine said and Kurt nodded, not able to speak as his emotions got the better of him.

 

They landed on the white sand and pulled the boat up past high tide, then took hands and walked across the small beach and into the trees. Blaine led the way, Kurt being so disoriented that he couldn't find the way. It had been several months since they had been rescued from this place, but it held no bad feelings. Kurt and Blaine had fallen in love here.

They approached the shelter and Kurt stood with his mouth open.

“I...that...this isn't the way I had it in my head at all. Are you sure?” he asked, looking at Blaine.

“Yes. See, here is the 'kitchen' with the shelves we made. The pole is broken, but this is where the shelter was. See, the blanket is still there,” Blaine pointed out. Kurt walked slowly over to where he could see the ring of rocks where the fire had been. He crouched down and ran his fingers over the stones, then closed his eyes and smiled. Eyes still closed, he went to the shelter and lay down on the blanket.

“Blaine?” he called and the doctor was by his side, lying down beside him, taking him in his arms and kissing Kurt's lips. Kurt hummed, tugging his clothes off. Blaine took in a large gasp of air, then removed his own.

“Blaine, is this okay? I mean, this is the place and we might never have another chance to be here again. This is paradise - where we fell in love,” Kurt said softly, running his hands through Blaine's hair. He dipped down and ran his mouth along Blaine's shoulder. 

“This is always okay, Babe. Here or anywhere,” Blaine said back, stroking his hand down Kurt's side to see him laugh. He moved closer to Kurt, feeling his skin where they touched. Kurt's skin was so soft and inviting, pulling Blaine closer to maximize every inch of skin meeting skin. Kurt was so hard it ached and he rutted against Blaine's thigh to get a little friction. 

  
Make love to me?” he asked and Blaine smiled, kissing him deeply. He reached over to his shorts pocket and took out a packet of lube, wasting no time in spreading it over his fingers and turning Kurt onto his back. Blaine circled for a moment, being slow and gentle as he entered and began the stretch. Kurt shivered, he was so ready for this. He had dreamed about Blaine making love to him for months right here until that night, and Kurt knew then that they had to be together forever.

“Oh, Blaine, yessss,” Kurt sighed as he let his muscles relax. He was anxious and anticipating the burn and good feelings, his breath coming faster as Blaine stroked and kissed. Kurt reached over to touch Blaine, running his hand down the thick shaft and coming back up in even rhythm. It took forever and just a moment, Kurt had lost track of time and Blaine was right there, waiting for Kurt to give him a sign to begin. Kurt lay back and opened his legs again, moaning as Blaine entered him, slow and steady.

“Blaine.....there, right there,” he directed and Blaine pushed his way in, pulling back and pressing in as Kurt got used to the friction. It was all Blaine could do not to thrust hard, but he was always gentle with Kurt. 

“You are so perfect,” Blaine said, “so beautiful, my love, we will be together for the rest of our lives, won't we?”

“Yes, yes...there could never be anyone as good as you, Blaine...oh, right there – harder, harder!” Kurt sang out, begging Blaine. Blaine responded, thrust after thrust as they kissed and held on. It didn't take long, Blaine coming hard but not stopping the pounding thrust until he felt Kurt squeeze down on him, his hands clutching Blaine's arms as Kurt moaned out his pleasure. 

They stayed like that, Blaine resting his forehead on Kurt's chest for a few moments before he pulled out. Kurt using the soft sand to wipe away the semen on his stomach. He held out his hands and Blaine lay his head on Kurt's chest.

“I love you, Kurt,” he said, his voice sleepy.

“I love you, too.”

 

After twenty minutes, Kurt woke Blaine up and they walked down to the other beach, washing off in the tide pool. 

“Hey, shall we bring them all home some lobster?” Kurt asked. “Which pool has them?”

“Over here. Don't go stepping on any harpoons now,” Blaine advised, smiling at Kurt.

“Oh, very funny. Now that I can see where I'm going, I will try not to.”

They walked over to the deep pool and Kurt took his shirt and tied it to his belt loop, just like he used to. He dived in, amazed at the colors of the coral and things in the tidepool. He saw scallops and pulled some off to take back, then he was down far enough to start feeling for lobsters. He had six before he got tired of diving, it was hard work to hold his breath that long. He'd done five dives and this had to be the last one. Taking a deep breath, he dived down, holding on to the rock shelves as he got deeper and found a very large lobster, grabbed it by the back and swam for the surface. He breached the water, shaking it out of his hair as he flipped up onto the rocks, handing Blaine the last of the big red pinchers. 

“Wow, Kurt. This is enough for a feast!” Blaine crowed, so proud of his boyfriend.

 

They walked slowly back through the forest, going to look at the little spring that saved their life with it's cool fresh water. They picked a few coconuts and then back to the skiff to head home. They could see Milo on the boat, waving.

I guess this is the end, huh?” Kurt said.

“Oh, no, Kurt. I think we will be back. I'll always think of it as ours, won't you?”

“Yeah. The place we fell in love,” Kurt said softly, blinking tears away. He leaned forward and almost upset the skiff, but Blaine kissed him anyway. They righted the tiny boat and paddled back to the big yacht in the bay.

 

_*****THE END*****_


End file.
